


It Felt So Good

by StarSock9



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Dublin (City), Heartbreak, Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sex Doesn't Solve Anything, Sexual Harassment, Slow Freeze, Tragic Romance, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Relationships, aka opposite of Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSock9/pseuds/StarSock9
Summary: They had walked together into the sunset, unprepared for how cold the night would grow. Sunrise eventually brought the warmth back to their world, but they couldn't live together in the light of day.The story of a love with the highest highs and the lowest lows, two souls struggling in their lifetime of tortured romance.
Relationships: Craig Dean/John Paul McQueen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 32





	1. I'll Never Go Back

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my writing group, EmbarrassedElephant, ST_Le, dispatchwithlove, and Hibbidyhai (on FFn), and to my beta reader Coeurire. You have truly helped me to bring out the best in my work.

They fought, then they had sex. Moving to Dublin didn’t change the pattern.

It was a happy, average Friday night. Craig’s classes had ended early, and they grabbed a bite together in the afternoon before John Paul’s DJ set at a Dublin college bar. They had a few drinks, then walked home, and John Paul’s arm curled around Craig’s waist easily and naturally. They bickered about some trivial nonsense, John Paul tickled Craig, and he giggled and pretended to fight back.

John Paul’s heart swelled at the carefree joy in his lover’s laughter. It felt wonderful being able to do this in public. Craig was finally his, and no one else’s.

Craig lost himself in these little moments when they played like children together. He loved it when John Paul forgot about his worries and treated him like a true friend. 

When they got to the pub, Craig awkwardly bopped along to the music while John Paul played, occasionally wandering over to the bar to grab a round of drinks for the two of them. As was often the case, someone approached him and flirted for a few minutes while he waited for his beers to be poured.

Tonight’s hopeful was a bored girl. She noticed a cute young man hovering alone near the back of the bar and figured he might be interested in some company for the night. When she saw him at the bar, she started her standard ice-breaker small talk, asking if he knew the DJ.

“Oh, I don’t just _know_ the DJ, lovely! He’s my _boyfriend!_ ” he babbled cheerfully.

She wasn’t disappointed by that news at all. She was looking for fun, and a night third wheeling with a gay DJ and his boyfriend sounded more entertaining than a hook up. She expressed her enthusiasm to spend more time with them, get to know them better.

Craig was oblivious and a little tipsy. He touched her shoulder and leaned in so he could hear her better. He had no idea how this looked from across the room. He walked back to the DJ table and dropped off John Paul’s beer, waving to John Paul with a grin as he did. Then the girl took his hand and led him to the dance floor. The night was much more enjoyable now that he had someone to talk to and dance with.

John Paul watched his lover dance with the tall, pretty girl. It got under his skin, enough that he almost lost track of his DJing. The fact that she had some superficial resemblance to Sarah added fuel to his jealousy. His blood boiled as he thought about it. For nearly a year, Craig had kept their relationship in the closet while he pretended to have a perfect relationship with Sarah. And now, after everything they had gone through, he still had the nerve to flirt like this with a girl he just met. He watched her take Craig’s wrist and lean in, her lips nearly brushing his ear.

When John Paul’s set ended and the bar started closing up, Craig turned down his new friend’s suggestion that they head somewhere that stayed open later. He exchanged numbers with her, and they parted with a kiss on the cheek.

John Paul nearly broke his records packing up.

On the walk back, John Paul happened to catch a glimpse of the girl again. Blood rushed to his head, coursing with lust and possessiveness. Craig was prattling on, some inane nonsense about his mother. John Paul wasn’t listening anyway. “Hey,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, mate?” Craig answered. Seeing the look in John Paul’s face, he furrowed brows in concern.

“That girl at the bar…”

“She was really nice! She thought your set was brilliant, she was asking about when you’d be playing next!”

“Did you tell her you’re gay?”

“I told her we’re a couple. She was hoping I’d introduce you, she’s a fan, but you looked sort of cross, so I figured maybe another night.”

John Paul grabbed Craig’s face and admired his long lashes framing youthful, pretty, brown eyes. Eyes innocent of their magnetic pull on men and women alike. “You only look at me like this,” he said, “no one else.”

“What are you on about?” Craig asked, “are you alright?”

“I’m perfect,” John Paul answered, “and you’re… God, you’re fucking _perfect._ And you’re _mine._ ” Ignoring Craig’s bewilderment, he pulled him in for an aggressive kiss.

Craig went still in his arms, and John Paul felt a twinge of guilt for startling him with an out-of-nowhere PDA attack, so he opened his eyes with the intention to back off a little. From across the street, he saw the girl watching them intensely, and his good intentions flew out the window. Overtaken completely by possessive lust, John Paul felt his pants tighten. He whipped his hands down to Craig’s skinny waist, admiring, slid them down over his delicate hips, sensual, and yanked them toward his own crotch. Craig squirmed, and John Paul responded by cupping one hand around his ass and the other behind his shoulder blades, pinning his lover’s smaller body against his own.

Craig bit his lip.

John Paul pulled back, startled, to see teeth bared, fists clenched, and eyes alight with fury. Craig locked his eyes in a challenge, only for a quick moment, before he lowered them to the ground and took a few labored, controlled breaths.

“Oh, what the FUCK, Craig!?! I thought we’d moved past this!” John Paul yelled.

Craig continued looking at the ground and breathed through his teeth, “Wait, please, just wait. Please. _Please._ ”

John Paul folded his arms, dreading the barrage of excuses he expected to hear. He had put up with Craig bullshitting and promising to come out of the closet for months. He was not about to put himself through that all over again.

Once Craig got his breathing under control, he met John Paul’s eyes again, this time vulnerable and submissive. “I’m trying, okay? Give me a little warning… I wasn’t ready for that… this is still hard… I still think about my mom or my brother or Sonny Valentine walking past, and… I’m scared, but I’m trying, okay? So give me a chance, please? I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to lose you. Please?”

“I was scared too, you know,” John Paul said, “I never mucked about and dragged my feet like this.”

Craig answered with a tremble in his voice, “Please don’t be angry. I’m okay with kissing, and I’m not bothered by people knowing about us, and all. It’s just… that was kind of a lot in public, yeah? I don’t want the cops nabbing us for indecent exposure or whatever.”

“Oh, come on! You know it wasn’t nearly that bad! Not half as ‘indecent’ as what you and _Sarah_ always used to get up to right in front of everyone!” John Paul yelled.

“How am I even supposed to respond to that?” Craig answered, folding his arms and shrinking deeper into himself.

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘Sorry for keeping you in the dark and in the closet for an entire year while I pretended to have a perfect relationship with a woman?’” John Paul said, throwing his arms in the air.

“I did—it’s not like I didn’t care for Sarah,” Craig said, averting his gaze.

“Tch. More than you cared for me,” John Paul said, turning away.

“That’s not true! I am sorry about how things went down, but I chose you in the end, didn’t I? I’ve apologized a thousand times, I’ll do it a million more. What more can I do? It’s not like I can erase the past.”

“You can at least be more careful about not flirting with girls in front of me. After everything… don’t you understand how much it hurts?” John Paul said with a sickening crack in his voice.

“I wasn’t trying to, okay? I didn’t mean anything by that, she was only being friendly. I didn’t expect you’d see it that way,” Craig said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“How could I not? She’s a stranger you’ve only just met, and you were nearly as affectionate with her as you are with me, at least in front of people.”

“That’s not true and you know it. You were getting awfully handsy.”

“You’re my _boyfriend,_ of course I was.” John Paul finally turned around to face him. “And you keep promising me you’ll quit being so shifty about it. Act like we’re a normal couple, wherever we are.” 

Craig shuffled his feet for a moment. He nervously approached John Paul and reached his hand to touch his boyfriend’s cheek. He kissed him on his pursed-shut lips. “I love you, John Paul. And I am sorry.”

John Paul still refused to make eye contact. He responded only with silence.

“Okay, fine,” Craig said, angrily unbuttoning his shirt, “we’ll have sex right in the street here.” Removing his undershirt, he said, “Hope everyone’s enjoying this peep show. Here I thought you wanted me all to yourself,” he undid his belt buckle, “but now I guess everyone’s getting a bit of—”

“Whoa, enough already, you’ve made your point,” John Paul said. “I’m sorry, all right. I got carried away. Put your shirt on.”

Craig abruptly realized what a scene they were putting on for the other university students walking home, and his shyness returned. Their audience had grown from the one girl to nearly a dozen spectators riveted by their display. He fumbled with the shirt, got tangled in the sleeve, and his shaking hands couldn’t seem to straighten out the anatomy of the garment.

John Paul felt bad for letting his temper get the better of him to such an extent. He took pity on his poor humiliated boyfriend and wrapped his hoodie around him. He zippered it up with Craig’s arms inside the torso still tangled in his shirt.

“Craig, look, I’m sorry sweetheart,” John Paul said as he wrapped his arm around Craig’s shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Once they were back at the apartment with the door closed behind them, John Paul released the massive grin he had been holding back. “Now, where were we?” he leaned over to nuzzle and kiss Craig’s neck, and unzipped the hoodie to caress his lover’s bare stomach.

“John,” Craig said, “I’m a little upset. Can we maybe not right now?”

“You’re still angry?” John Paul scoffed, “Why?”

“I didn’t say angry, I’m not angry.”

“Well, what are you then?”

“I guess I’m… I dunno…” he trailed off, mumbling, and couldn’t seem to catch the thread again.

After some pregnant silence, John Paul said, “If you tell me you’re confused _again_ , I swear to God, Craig…”

“I’m not!” Craig exclaimed. “I’m not confused about… about this… about how I feel about you, I promise… I’ve never been more sure of anything… I love you, John Paul…” he lost his thread for the second time.

He could tell that his boyfriend wasn’t satisfied with his floundering response. So he dodged the scrutiny the same way he always did: with a searing, desperate kiss.

John Paul was all too willing to accept Craig weaseling out of the conversation. He yanked the button down off Craig’s arm, devoured his lips in an all-encompassing kiss, ran his tongue across Craig’s neck, pushed him onto the couch.

Craig tried to sit up, but John Paul grabbed his thigh behind the knee and pressed his body between Craig’s legs. The couch was too plush and Craig felt like he was being swallowed alive by it. John Paul leaned over to kiss his chest, and it was all too claustrophobic. Craig put his hands on John Paul’s chest and pushed him away.

John Paul’s patience was at its limit, and Craig didn’t want to re-start the fight. “Let’s move to the bedroom, yeah?” he asked with a nervous tremble.

“Of course, love,” John Paul answered. He kept the hand behind Craig’s thigh and circled the other around his shoulders, using this position to hoist his smaller frame up around his waist.

Now _that_ was hot. In their year apart, John Paul had filled out his teenage form with broadened shoulders and core strength. Craig, meanwhile, had remained as slight as ever, a fact which had caused him a great deal of insecurity until he realized how easily his partner could physically dominate him. He wrapped his arms around John Paul’s neck, at first for stability, but the ripple of thick corded muscles beneath his skin made Craig’s interest surge to attention, and he splayed his hands out to study the powerful motions.

The kisses on his neck, which had irritated him only a few minutes ago, heated his tingling skin now that he was aroused. He rocked forward, pressing his groin into John Paul’s stomach, and tilting his chin toward his lover’s mouth to encourage a line of kisses along the underside of his jaw.

John Paul moved his mouth right to Craig’s ear, and soft and low, murmured, “That feel good, sweetheart?” Craig could only whimper in response. John Paul sat him down on the bed. He placed a hand on Craig’s cheek, looked deep into his eyes, and said gently, “Hey, I really am sorry about earlier. You’re right, you’re too gorgeous to let anyone else get an eyeful, I’m keeping you all to myself from now on. You’re _mine,_ all mine.” He kissed him deeply, then pulled back and said, “I love you, Craig. You’re… I’m being pushy again… this feels good for you, right?”

“Yeah,” Craig answered breathlessly, mind still a little lost in the kiss. When John Paul didn’t return to kissing him, Craig realized he wanted more. “I didn’t realize you could pick me up so easy like that. You got strong… maybe… maybe next time you can toss me onto the bed instead of just sitting my arse down all gentle like?”

John Paul was surprised for a moment, but probably shouldn’t have been. As noncommittal as he could be on other matters, Craig had always been forward with his sexual desires. He was still worried, since Craig had been less than enthusiastic on the couch, but lust pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It was rare for Craig to willingly give up control, let alone _request_ John Paul dominate him, and he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. So he simply chuckled at the absurdity of his lover’s blunt response. “Not what I meant, love,” he said, “but I’ll take it.” After all, Craig’s oddness and unpredictability were what had initially drawn his interest.

Craig relaxed and closed his eyes for another kiss. John Paul could see how restless he was to continue, so he drew out the moment. He brought his face just close enough that Craig could feel his breath ghost against his lips. He placed his hands on Craig’s thighs, just above his knees, and slowly and gently rubbed and kneaded toward his groin. Craig’s eyes stayed closed, and his long eyelashes fluttered. Little sighs of pleasure escaped his lovely pink lips, and John Paul had to fight not to give into the promising temptation they offered of a kiss. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and his stomach quivered with anticipation.

Deciding he’d tortured himself enough waiting, John Paul brought his hands up to Craig’s shoulders and roughly shoved him onto the bed, eliciting a surprised gasp. _Well, he did ask me to be less gentle,_ he thought _._ He leaned over and gripped Craig’s waist in both hands, enjoying the way Craig’s legs twitched around him as he kissed and nipped at his sensitive stomach. _God, he’s so skinny. Bet I could pick him up and sit him on the bar, wonder if it’d make him hard._ “Hey,” John Paul said in the most sultry voice he could muster, “I like this new kink of yours.”

He grabbed the waistband of Craig’s pants, and without even unbuttoning them whipped them off his buttocks, boxers and all. The effect was undercut when his pants caught around his knees, and Craig giggled at John Paul’s frustration guiding them over his knees and ankles. _Oh, that’s cute,_ he thought, but outwardly remained committed to his role. “Think that’s funny, eh?” he grabbed Craig behind the knee again to roughly flip him face down onto the bed. “Would have been easier if you didn’t have such a bony little arse,” he punctuated this statement with a playful spank. He switched to kneading and kissing it. “God, you’re small,” he marveled out loud, “Craig, do you feel it? My hands are bigger than your bum.”

“Yeah,” Craig answered, “your hands feel big.” John Paul continued worshipping his lover’s little bum, kissing closer and closer to his target. “John…” Craig interrupted, “wait, John Paul, I haven’t… if you want to do… that… well, I’ve got to shower first, haven’t I?”

 _Oh, holy ever-loving FUCK,_ John Paul paused for a moment to consider the implications of that statement. He’d never actually done that with Craig, since that would require planning ahead, not one of their strong suits. “Next time,” he growled, “I’m not waiting.” He hopped off the bed to remove his clothes and grab lube and condoms.

When he returned to his place, Craig had rolled onto his back and moved himself to a more comfortable position with his head on the pillows. “John, I love you,” he said. “Kiss me?”

As much as he was enjoying the power play, he was more than happy to drop the act for a request like that. He crawled between Craig’s legs, gave him a light kiss, and said “I love you too, Craig.” For someone so bold with lewd sexual acts, he was adorably squeamish in intimate romantic moments. John Paul longed to say so out loud but feared his amusement would upset his lover all over again. So he stifled the chuckle, and instead leaned in for another, deeper kiss.

In all his teasing, John Paul had nearly forgotten that he wanted this just as much as Craig did. Within seconds, both men stopped thinking and fell headfirst into the sensations of each other’s bodies. Still so hot and feral with the energy from the fight, he sank claws and teeth into his lover’s tender flesh. Craig howled in ecstasy, and John Paul’s territorial streak rose proudly, knowing that anyone within earshot knew exactly who he belonged to. He looked at the marks on his lover’s body and growled with approval, knowing that anyone who saw his body would see how brazenly he had staked his claim. John Paul took them both in his hand, dry and raw and painful, and they climaxed, too hot and too fast onto Craig’s stomach.

By the time they finished, John Paul was completely drained. 

Craig kissed his cheek and got up and went to the bathroom to rinse himself off. Coming down off his endorphin high, he was hit with a sinking feeling of dread. _Something is missing._ He stared at his reflection a while longer, counting his breaths to try to quell his panic. It took some time to build up enough resolve to return to the bedroom and crawl back into the bed. _C’mon, man up,_ he told himself, _you’ve got to!_

To his half-asleep, half-listening partner, Craig finally found the courage to confess, “I’d have got fully nude right there in the street if it kept you walking out of my life again. I’ve got no shame left when it comes to you, have I?” He snuggled deeper into John Paul’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. I won’t go back to acting a proud fool again. I’ll never drag us back in the closet, I promise. My heart is yours, no one else’s. I’m yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first piece of creative writing in 10 years. Quarantine made me nostalgic, so I re-watched the JP/Craig story and got inspired. Also, feel free to Britpick. I did my best, but I am hella American. I hope you enjoy the story! 
> 
> Next chapter: I Cried the Whole Time- JP reminisces about their first time together


	2. I Cried the Whole Time

Things had been peaceful for a while. One year since their happy, public kiss on the train platform from Hollyoaks village to Dublin, John Paul had taken them out to a nice “anniversary” dinner to celebrate. When they got back to the apartment, they curled up to watch a movie on the couch. As they settled into their positions, John Paul wrapped his arm around Craig, and felt a Cheshire grin take over his face when his lover leaned softly into his chest, rather than recoil. He kissed the top of Craig’s head, absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder with his thumb, and brought his other hand down to rest on his thigh.

Reminiscing about the good old days, John Paul fondly described how happy he had felt when Craig finally confessed that he loved him back. “All that time,” he said, “I thought you didn’t feel the same way. It was like my heart broke again every time I saw you, it was so painful. But then, that day, everything changed, and my whole world, you turned it all upside down, just by telling me you loved me back.” He felt Craig stiffen in his arms, immediately crushing his good mood. “Oh, honestly, does everything have to be a minefield with you? What could it possibly be this time?”

“Please, let’s not talk about the past,” Craig answered, eyes cast downward. “I’m happy now, isn’t that what matters?”

“So, what you’re saying is, you were unhappy then?” John Paul shot back.

“No, no, no, I don’t want this, I don’t want to do this,” Craig muttered, breath quickening.

“Too bad! We’re doing this!” John Paul shouted. “You brought it up, we’re doing this now. So enlighten me, Craig, what the hell’s got you all mopey this time. Our first time, our _first time_ together, one of my happiest memories, and you’re telling me that you’ve got yet another dark secret or _whatever_ that’s going to ruin that too?”

“No, it’s not… a secret or anything, it’s just… well it wasn’t exactly happy for me, was it?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“John, of course I wasn’t happy. I cried the whole way through, didn’t I?” Craig said quietly with defeat.

John Paul was too stunned to respond. In some ways, that scene was burned into his memory, but Craig’s confession had rudely awakened him to some of the details he genuinely hadn’t remembered about the events of that afternoon. He thought back on it, trying to figure out what he had missed.

John Paul’s first time had been with a fellow DJ named Spike, who was an experienced and considerate lover. Spike’s parents were liberal, artistic types who had supported him in all that he was, and when he came out to them they had praised him for his bravery and honesty. John Paul completely took it for granted that Spike’s self-assurance and confidence had been a major factor in why his maiden voyage had felt so incredible. Spike had taken things slow at the start, frequently pausing to bring his mouth back up to give John Paul a kiss, and to reassure him, a near-constant stream of, “How’s that feel?” and “Do you like that?”

Craig didn’t get nearly such gentle treatment, but John Paul had no recollection of that. Even at the time, John Paul wasn’t aware of how his own unresolved anger colored his actions. John Paul’s ex-girlfriend had caught them drunkenly kissing and told all their classmates. The school bullies had teased them both about being gay, and Craig had started a public brawl with John Paul, a cynical display aimed at rebuilding his own cardboard closet at John Paul’s expense.

A few weeks later, Craig first confessed his feelings. John Paul remembered all the tearful beating around the bush and asking John Paul how to stop loving someone. Such a strange and backwards way to say it. Why couldn’t he just say, “I’m in love with you,” straightforwardly, as John Paul had so many times?

John Paul remembered the tears clinging to Craig’s eyelashes when he asked, “Are you sure?” The fervent lust was evident, or at least, John Paul thought it was, as Craig gave his answer. Had he misinterpreted Craig’s feelings somehow? It didn’t make sense. All he could remember was that he asked, “Are you sure?” and Craig said yes.

After that, the feel of Craig’s body wholly overtook his recollection. After months of repressing the strength of his desire, he could do little aside from releasing the flood gates and drowning Craig in the physical manifestation of his affection.

Pitiful details were lost, distorted by the haze of lust around the memory. Details like Craig covering his face with his hands, clamping his legs together, and crying, “Please, wait… John Paul, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be scared, love. I told you, it feels wonderful. Didn’t I?” John Paul answered, oblivious to the fact that these were the words that broke Craig’s heart. Lost in the catharsis of _finally_ having his hands on Craig’s slim, smooth thighs, he never even noticed the hot tears burning down Craig’s face and pooling in his ears. He brought his lips to Craig’s ear. “Hey,” he whispered, “you ready now?”

“Yeah,” Craig said numbly, “do it.”

Overwhelmed with dread for all that he would face when people found out about this, Craig threw both his arms over his face. A cold wet finger breached him, and he felt strange, exposed, and disgusted with himself. He wanted nothing more than for his lover to kiss his lips, look deep in his eyes, wipe the tears from his cheeks, and tell him that no matter what, they’d be all right as long as they were together, and that he would stand by him through anything.

Craig tried his best to hold back anguished sobs as he thought back on the way John Paul used to protect him from his school bullies, Sonny and Justin. He thought about the way John Paul always comforted him when things went wrong with his girlfriend Sarah, or when drama with his family threatened to upend his life. He was safe and secure in the arms of his friend, who held him steady when he was too drunk to walk properly, the most faithful and constant presence in his life. He was a lifeline, stability amidst the constant turmoil of his family life.

“Hey…” John Paul said, “hey, look at me. Why are you crying?”

“What? Because I’m… I can’t bear the thought of you being with that… _Spike.”_

“Craig, are you sure we should…?”

“What are you talking about? Just… hurry up, already. Do it.”

Now, Craig felt utterly used, betrayed, and heartbroken as John Paul pressed in too quickly, stretching painfully. His best friend who professed to love him was pounding into him, an agonizing pulse through his pitiful listless body. A part of him knew it was a mistake to show up and impulsively kiss his friend, when his own feelings were still so muddled. Why the hell was he so jealous of Spike when he had Sarah? His mind was fighting itself, making no sense. But his emotions were wound so tightly that his mind, not ready to face how horrendously this had backfired, simply shut down. He absently wondered whether he would shit himself. At this point he was already so oversaturated with shame, it wouldn’t even make a difference if he did. He stared at John Paul’s posters for a while, trying to forget his torment and numb his anxieties with distraction, but felt like an insomniac counting sheep.

Eventually his mind could no longer process the feel of the excruciating rhythm, instead zeroing in on the feel of the tears slowly cooling in the cartilage of his ears. He became so hyper-aware of it that he had to focus his energy on resisting the urge to grab a blanket and dry them out. That would raise a few questions, and he didn’t want to do anything to make this nightmare last any longer than it had to.

How had it come to this? What jealous madness had taken over him, leaving in the middle of an exam to come begging at John Paul’s feet like that? He was an idiot. Worse, he was a cheater. Just by being here, he was betraying Sarah, treating her like trash the same way his father had treated his mother. What would she think of this, her son growing up to be exactly like the empty shell of a man who had abandoned him without so much as a roof over his head? His world was crashing down around him. What would his mother think of him? How would Sarah ever forgive him? What would Sonny and Justin do, now that they had yet another reason to torment his existence?

John Paul went still. Thank God it was over. Craig turned away, staring at the wall in a daze, no perception of the passage of time.

John Paul startled him out of his reverie by asking, “How’d that happen, eh?”

Craig’s mind went into overdrive, simultaneously crashing with guilt over what he had done, panicking about what the consequences might be, and short-circuiting at the revelation that his feelings for John Paul might have become more complicated in the past few weeks.

“I’ve dreamt about that for a long time,” John Paul said.

Craig whipped out of bed and rushed to get his pants on as fast as he could. John Paul tried to stop him, and he snapped, “Get your hands off me, faggot!” and ran as fast as he could. He staggered out into the street with his head spinning, grabbed his hair and hissed through his teeth, just trying to calm himself down. _What am I going to do now?_

John Paul remembered that slur as clearly as a brand over his heart. He tried not to think about it, because it made him sick to his stomach. There he was, basking in the afterglow, and out of nowhere his new love grabbed a handful of that blazing kindling and scorched a permanent scar into his soul. 

No. It couldn’t have come from nowhere. If Craig was still so distressed, all these years later, there had to be more to it.

John Paul looked around and realized that Craig had left the TV room. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was past midnight. It was so like Craig to just run off after an argument, but John Paul hadn’t heard the front door open so at least this time he was still somewhere in the flat. John Paul went to the bedroom and released a sigh of relief seeing Craig’s thin body curled in a fetal position on the bed. He thought for a few minutes about what to say but couldn’t think of anything. Eventually he gave up, silently sat on the bed and placed a hand on Craig’s shoulder.

“I’ve ruined everything all over again, haven’t I?” Craig asked sullenly.

“No, you haven’t,” John Paul answered.

“Are you going to leave me?” he said.

“No, of course not,” John Paul said. “Why would you think that?”

“I didn’t mean to bring that up. I don’t want to do this.”

“It’s all right, Craig. I forget sometimes that first year we were hardly happy at all. We just never did get the timing quite right where we were both on the same page, did we?”

“But that doesn’t matter anymore, right?” Craig sobbed, curling into himself even more tightly. “We’re happy now, isn’t that good enough?”

“It’s more than enough,” John Paul said, leaning over Craig’s shoulder to kiss his cheek. “Craig, look at me. We’re happy now, and that’s more than enough. It’s everything.” He kissed his lips. “You’re everything to me, Craig. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Craig sniffled.

“You know,” John Paul said, “I’ve never understood why you were so angry that day. I mean, I get that you had some… issues with being out of the closet and all, but… I mean, you begged to have sex, and then we did. So why were you so cross with me?”

“I… I told you I was scared… and you… you assumed I was talking about sex. You were… you said, ‘hey, stop freaking out, it feels good,’ and… and I was angry because… I wasn’t scared of _having sex._ I was scared because… I knew everything, my whole life, would change once… if… once people found out about us.” John Paul handed him a tissue and gave him a minute to clean up his face. “This was all I wanted you to do, you know,” Craig said. “I just wanted you to… to listen to me… to listen to what I was scared about… and just… get all cheesy and tell me everything’s going to be alright.”

“Is that right? The big secret I chased after for months, and _that_ was it?” John Paul coaxed him to sit upright with a gentle hand on his cheek. “I’ve got to be honest, I feel a bit cheated. Like, if I had the magic slippers all along, why couldn’t you just tell me to tap my heels together a little sooner?”

“Well, I didn’t know what I wanted at the time.”

“That was kind of the problem, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Craig answered, still a little unsure of himself. Realizing that things would get even heavier if this conversation continued the way it was, he turned on a dime, and turned his face toward John Paul. “I know _exactly_ what I want now,” he said seductively.

“Mind telling me what that might be?”

“I want you, John Paul.”

John Paul tried to keep the moment tender. “You have me. I’m right here.”

“Cheeky. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Tell me what you want, Craig.” The words were a plea, a prayer, imploring his love to let him remain in this pure sanctuary just a little longer.

“Oh, that’s how you’re playing it?” Craig deflected. “Fine, I want… I want you to kiss me.”

“Okay,” John Paul said, a hint of melancholy in his soft, chaste kiss.

“Fine. I want you to kiss me more. Like, proper, with tongue and all that.”

“Okay,” John Paul said, giving in to his lover’s desire for a more physical type of affection. He caressed his jaw and slid his tongue across his supple lips. Sweet sighs enticed him to release his doubts, and he reveled in the graceful enchantment. When Craig wanted more touch, John Paul made him wait. He got increasingly fidgety, and finally whined in frustration. John Paul laughed wickedly, and said again, mischievously this time, “Craig. Tell me what you want.”

“I… just… what? The usual stuff, of course!”

“Tell me.”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess, like, take my shirt off and… touch my body.”

“Yeah?” John Paul said as he removed Craig’s shirt. He kissed him again, then whispered into his lips, “Where should I touch you?”

“Don’t you usually, like, put your hands on my waist and… um… kiss my stomach, and stuff?”

“I do,” John Paul said, and did as he was told. “That’s where you like it?”

“Yeah.”

“I know,” he said smugly, “I used to play with your nipples and your chest more. You’ve got such nice ones. But then I realized you don’t seem to react much to that. When I go lower down, though,” he ghosted his lips ever so lightly over his stomach, “like here,” he kissed gently, “you get turned on.” He squeezed Craig’s lower back and pulled him up closer, pressing a more urgent kiss into the tender flesh. “And then you can’t resist me,” he said with his mouth still resting there, hot breath against his skin.

“Fuck, ah! Keep doing that! And _shut up_ while you’re at it!”

From there on, Craig was back to his bossy, confident self. He eventually got frustrated with the teasing, barked orders to take their pants off, grabbed John Paul’s collar, pushed him down to straddle him… the usual stuff, of course.

John Paul reached into the drawer for the bottle of lube, grabbed Craig’s hips, dug his nails in, and pulled him closer. Craig fell forward with a yelp and braced himself on the headboard. Right where John Paul wanted him. John Paul took a moment to admire his cock, then took it into his mouth, hot and hard and deep, and used his hands on Craig’s hips to encourage him to fuck deeper into his throat. He pulled back for a moment to breathe and lubed up his fingers. Then he pulled Craig back in to continue deep-throating him while he teased at his rim and perineum. 

The second Craig finished, John Paul swallowed, pushed him off then yanked him into position face-down in the pillows. He lubed himself and slotted between Craig’s thighs, coming quickly and making a mess of their duvet.

Craig gave him a few seconds to catch his breath, then rolled him off so he could kiss him. “That,” he said between kisses, “is disgusting. I’m going to take a shower, change the sheets.”

“You’ve got it, boss,” John Paul said to Craig’s back.

It never ceased to amaze John Paul how quickly Craig could flip the script from his teary-eyed to a real-life wet dream. The sex was incredible, so it made the melodrama bearable, even worth it. It never once occurred to him that Craig’s confident outward demeanor was a finely crafted mask to hide, even from himself, deep-seated insecurity and loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: This One's Dedicated to the Girls- JP calls his mum


	3. This One's Dedicated to the Girls

It was rare for them to spend time together with Craig’s friends from Trinity, since they all had classes during the day, while John Paul worked most nights. Relieved from the stress of final exams, the students wanted nothing more than to celebrate with a round of drinks. A few of them had met John Paul in passing, but he was shocked to learn how few of them even knew Craig was in a relationship, let alone with a man.

Craig tried very hard not to flinch at public contact, and while John Paul appreciated the effort, it upset him that Craig had to try at all. It had only taken about a week of dating Spike before John Paul had gotten used to the stares, and, while they still bothered him, he learned to ignore them. Right now, Craig’s classmates were far too interested in temporary freedom from their studies to pay any notice to them, and besides they weren’t nearly as nosy as the Hollyoaks village folks. No one was watching, so John Paul found it a little hard to swallow when Craig removed his hand from his hip and suggested that he “Maybe cool it with the PDA.”

“Cool it, eh? Why, Craig, so you don’t have to admit you’re gay in front of your new _mates?”_

“John, don’t do this again,” Craig said, looking at a spot on the floor. “They know we’re a couple.”

“Well, sure. They do _now_ ,” John Paul said sarcastically.

“Yeah. They do. I’m not close with most of them, but my mates have been to our place. _They_ know you. And the rest of the lot don’t matter,” Craig said.

“Tch… these so-called _mates_ of yours seem to matter to you a lot more than I do,” John Paul said.

“You know that’s not true,” Craig answered, stood up, and gave John Paul a quick peck on the lips. “Now let’s please just have a good night, all right?”

Craig turned back toward his classmates, and awkwardly tried to join in their conversation. His friends shot icy glares towards John Paul and reached out to Craig, gently holding his hands.

John Paul couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the whole situation. _Of course,_ Craig’s closest friends from university were a group of stunning women, a few of whom he recognized from seeing them at his flat. Some nights, he’d come home from work well past midnight to find that Craig was drunk and laughing on the couch after an obvious night out on the town with two or three of these so-called “friends.” He could _at least_ have the decency to stop hanging out with his ex-girlfriend, but no, she was right there, her hand resting on Craig’s shoulder.

Craig eventually gave up trying to ignore John Paul’s foul mood. He resigned himself to the fact that this night wasn’t going to turn out very festive for him and said his goodbyes. A few of his friends were disappointed that he was leaving so soon. They gave an anxious glance toward John Paul and asked Craig if everything was all right.

Without realizing he was doing it, Craig had gradually started spending his time with his friends more than with John Paul. He didn’t mean to make John Paul feel left out, he just grew weary of the constant possessiveness and wanted to blow off steam from his long stressful days studying with people who were fun to be around.

Maybe that’s why he had clung to his relationship with Sarah, even after he realized his love for her was far eclipsed by his feelings for John Paul. He was happy with Sarah and Hannah, just hanging out together, enjoying their youth. He loved John Paul, but the man really needed to learn to lighten up.

Marilyn, the first friend Craig made when he moved to Dublin, was indignant on his behalf. She whispered harshly into Craig’s ear, “Not a chance, Craig! You’re not missing out on all the festivities before your _graduation ceremony_ just because your boyfriend wants to be a jealous asshole! It could be years before we’re all able to get together again, you know alumni never manage to make it to reunions and shit. Not a chance we’re letting you miss out on your last few nights at uni with your mates!”

“Look, it’s all right, Mar, I’m honestly a little tired anyhow, maybe I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” Craig said. They talked for a few more minutes, then he said, “Look, I really should go. I’ll call you, all right? I promise. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” He returned to John Paul and picked his coat up from the back of his chair.

“So,” John Paul growled, “had some fun flirting with your birds from uni did you?”

“John, honestly, for the last time, I’m not flirting. They’re just mates.”

“Yea? Like how you and me were just _mates_ when you were dating Sarah?”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about her.”

“All right then, we won’t talk about her.” John Paul stood up and raised his voice theatrically toward Craig’s friends, saying, “How about let’s talk about _Emma_ instead?” Craig’s ex-girlfriend grimaced at being singled out from the group.

“No,” Craig said, voice shaking with fury, “No, John, me and Emma, we broke up before I went back to Hollyoaks, we’ve never, we’re only mates…”

John Paul completely ignored him and continued, “How about let’s talk about how the _second_ you got away from everyone who knew you were gay, you crawled right back into the closet?”

“Hey, you moved on faster than I did, you were already engaged by the time I got back.”

“Yeah, I was engaged. To a _man_. Because I’m _gay_. And SO! ARE! _YOU!!!_ ”

“Will you fuck off already?” Another girl, Dierdre, stepped in. “Clearly you’re not wanted here, ass-wipe.”

Dierdre and a few of the others pushed their way into John Paul’s physical space, while Marilyn pulled Craig toward her.

“What the hell? Get out of my face, you stupid hag!” John Paul yelled past the girls, “You coward! You fucking coward! Hiding from what you are and letting a bunch of _chicks_ fight your battles for you? You haven’t changed one bit, you fucking coward!”

Craig, of course, took the bait, but Marilyn and Emma restrained him. It was a good thing they were there to hold him back. _Fuck you, John Paul, your teeth would look awfully nice on the floor right now, you faggot!_ he thought. He meant to say it out loud but was so enraged that he couldn’t even form words correctly.

John Paul stormed from the bar, back to the flat, and went after his punching bag like he always did when he needed to let off steam. He punched and punched until he finally broke down crying, and, blinded by tears, couldn’t aim his punches anymore. He crumpled onto the floor. He felt so alone. He had never wished that his mum or one of his sisters would materialize out of thin air before, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than a smothering McQueen hug. He imagined his mum sarcastically scolding him for acting “Just like one a’ them trashy McQueen slags” in front of Craig’s friends, and even the memory of her voice was a great comfort.

As he calmed down a little, he longed to give his mum a call. But after the way she had accepted the relationship between him and Craig, despite everything that happened, he didn’t have the heart to admit to her that it was all falling apart.

Myra McQueen had struggled to accept it at first. Having a gay son didn’t fit in neatly with her Catholic upbringing. She worked hard to make sure John Paul never had to question her unconditional love for him. Being a hotheaded teenager, he had taken it for granted at the time, but he appreciated it now for the warmth it gave him in this cold, lonely moment.

When he first came out, he had been completely mortified at the way his mum and sisters had reacted. He understood that they were trying to be supportive, but they were such a clueless lot. Aside from Jaqui and Tina, their constant meddling had only made his coming out experience even more humiliating. Carmel made him a dating profile. Myra, Carmel, Jaqui, and Mercedes dragged him to a seedy gay club.

Carmel was the worst of the lot, by far. When John Paul first met his first boyfriend Spike, she was all over them, offering them “gay sandwiches” and other absurdities. John Paul was furious with her, but Spike found her hilarious. He even invited her and Myra to a few pride events. They made fools of themselves, dressing in huge hats with flowers as if they were going to meet the Queen.

“No, not _the_ Queen, John Paul dear, _queens._ You know, like, _gays,”_ Carmel explained with authority, as if it was the most logical thing on earth.

They certainly behaved just like their McQueen reputation. The thing was, in that environment their campiness made them the life of the party. A tearful middle-aged man in a purple tutu held Myra’s hands and told her that he could see God in her eyes, and her son was lucky to have such an angel for a mother. Spike and a few other college-age boys danced with Carmel, and she had the time of her life. Spike teased John Paul for being such a “crab-pot” and told him that someday he’d regret not joining in the fun.

He regretted it now. He wished with all his heart that he could go back to that day, together with his supportive boyfriend and family, stop pining after Craig’s self-hating ass for a few hours and enjoy that moment. Maybe he could have fallen in love with Spike. There were so many moments like that. Moments when Spike was right there, fitting right in with his sisters like he was part of the family all along, making them feel totally at ease. He wished with all his heart he’d meant it when he told him he thought they had a future together. Because that would mean he could forget Craig, the man who broke his heart over and over.

Even deeper was his regret that he couldn’t stay faithful to Kieron. His fiancée, kind and steady, who helped his mother truly reconcile her faith with John Paul’s sexuality.

Kieron introduced Myra and Carmel to PFLAG, where they learned to be true allies, and support him in more subtle ways that weren’t quite so humiliating. They learned to respect his boundaries. They learned to treat him like a normal person again. They defended him when someone else made an issue of it, but otherwise let it be.

Back in the early days, when Kieron and John Paul were still only dating in secret, Myra confessed that she was still struggling to be a good mother to him. Kieron introduced her to a group for fellow supportive family members, and she and Carmel attended earnestly. The first day, Carmel brought a sparkly pink diary with a pink ink gel pen and a pink pom-pom on top. They didn’t tell John Paul they were going, and when they returned Carmel enthusiastically read him notes she had taken in her little notebook.

“Remember, your loved one is more than just his or her sexual or gender oriental. He or she is still the same person he or she has always been. This is a big change to get used to, but do not forget about the things that make him or her who they are as a person. Ooh! And then they wanted us to write down things about _our_ loved one, and I wrote: Our John Paul is a very serious person. He likes music, he is a DJ, he plays the ukulele. He is usually in his room with the door shut, he has his own room because he’s the only boy in the family. He is smart, and I think he studies a lot. He likes football too, he wants to go to a football camp in America with his best friend Craig, they will teach the little Yanks how to play. They call it ‘soccer’ there.”

John Paul had rolled his eyes and called Carmel a stupid cow, but now in hindsight he thought fondly how lucky he was to have a sister like her.

He didn’t have to tell his mum that he and Craig were fighting. Yeah, that would work. He would call home, and he would just lie and say everything was going great. They’d work it out anyway, they always did. He could seek out the comfort from his mother’s voice, all he had to do was hide the reason for the call. He could do that.

John Paul phoned home.

“McQueens, this is Myra speaking.”

“Mum, hi, it’s me. It’s John Paul.”

“John Paul? Sweetheart, why the devil are you calling at this hour?”

“Nothing, I just… just missed all you lot, and… that’s all.”

“Oh, God, what’s he gone and done this time? That Craig Dean, I tell ya…”

“Nothin, mum. He’s out celebrating, he’s just got finished with exams.”

“And you’re not with him.”

“Well, I don’t know his mates from uni all that well. This is a big deal for them, and all, and after this half of them are moving away. I didn’t want to put myself in the middle of something that’s got nothing to do with me. Once he’s graduated I’ll have him all to myself, so there’s no sense crowding into his business now.”

Myra didn’t answer.

“Mum? Mum, nothing’s wrong. I’ve told you.”

“You’re alone on a Friday night. That Craig Dean, I should’ve known he’d never change. He’s not done right by you, John Paul, and I don’t know why you had to leave with him so soon after… well, you know, no need for me to say.”

“I needed space, mum. After everything that happened.”

“And he’s the one to give it to you?”

“Yeah, he is. In fact, you know what, that’s exactly what’s going on right now. He’s giving me space.”

“Sure.”

John Paul didn’t answer.

“Look, I know you love him, John Paul. I do. That boy, he just, he’s had a troubled life. I got to know his mum while they was living with us, and she’s a real cow. You know, me and Carmel, we went to them prides and PFLAGS and whatnot for you, that’s what family’s supposed to do. That Frankie was just awful though. I thought I had talked some sense into her the first time around, but you know, she and Craig don’t even talk at all anymore. And not the minute he’d moved to Dublin she replaced him with that foster boy, put him up in his old bedroom and everything. His family’s just rotten. And I know he got a raw deal, but after the way he ran about that poor Sarah Barnes, you’ve got to wonder if maybe he’s just as bad as his lot.”

All that talk reminded John Paul of the day they were meant to leave for Dublin together, the first time. How Craig had begged John Paul to bring Myra to talk to Frankie. How desperate he had been for her acceptance. How overjoyed and innocent he had looked, grinning from ear to ear, when she finally gave in and told him, “You’re still my son.” It was the first time he’d ever seen Craig with a pure, true smile. Actually… it was the _only_ time he’d ever seen it.

“Mum… Oh my God, mum… I’ve been horrible to him,” John Paul breathed with dread.

“Pardon? _You’ve_ been horrible?”

“Yeah, mum. Coming out, it was so hard for me. I can’t even imagine how I would’ve got through it without you.”

“Well, I’m flattered, but—”

“No, you don’t understand. He didn’t have you. He didn’t have anyone but me, and all I did was push him away and tell him to figure his shit out on his own. You held me when I needed to cry, you were there for me. But his family was awful. He didn’t have anyone but me, and I… I should’ve held him… like the way you held me.”

“John Paul. Oh, John Paul McQueen, didn’t I know there was something the matter? Don’t you underestimate a mother’s intuition.”

“I can’t believe I’ve gone and done that to him.”

“What have you done?”

“I yelled at him for not being out of the closet to all his friends from uni.”

“Well what the hell did you do that for?”

“I’m jealous! He spends more time with them than he does with me, and I know it, I get it, I should make more effort to get along with his mates, that’s why he doesn’t want me around, but I just…”

“Oh, John Paul.”

“What am I going to do? Mum, I’ve gone and hurt him all over, I can’t believe it, I love him so much.”

“Hey, it’s all right, love. Just say you’re sorry.”

“What if it’s too late?”

“It isn’t. You can’t go back in time, but you can hold him now. Besides, that wasn’t _your_ responsibility, it was hers, that bitch. You were just a kid trying to figure things out, same as him.”

“Mum, I love him so much.”

“I know you do.”

“I love you, mum. God, mum, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, John Paul. Good luck, and you have a good night, love.”

“Good night, mum.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

John Paul closed his phone and stared at the wall. He tried to work up the courage to call Craig. _Just one more minute, I need just one more minute to think,_ he kept telling himself. In the end, he just sat there, dazed in the darkness.

Craig’s friends shepherded him into a dark, isolated booth and spoke in hushed tones to quiet for him too hear, leaving him alone to stew in his anger.

The more he thought about it, the more infuriated he felt. How dare John Paul go out of his way to announce to the world at large that he was gay, even though he was already kissing another man in public! Causing a scene like that was totally unjustified. Not only that, but he did things like that all the time. Losing his temper and kicking off over the smallest things. Besides, gays still did get beaten up by homophobes, so it’s not like Craig was doing anything wrong by wanting to be discreet in public spaces. And he was so damn jealous all the time, every time Craig talked to a pretty woman, even if there was nothing behind it!

Marilyn broke off from the group. She slipped into the booth beside him, wrapped her arm around his shoulders and rested her head on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

Emma and Dierdre slid into the bench facing them. Emma reached across the table and held Craig’s hands. “This must be so hard for you,” she said. “I know how much you love him.”

“This is probably for the best,” Dierdre said.

“I agree,” Marilyn said. “When I first met you, you were always pining after him… but now I’ve met him, I understand why it didn’t work out.”

“You gave it your all,” Emma said, “and it still wasn’t enough.”

“What? I… tch…” Craig spat, still too upset to form coherent sentences.

“I know how hard it was for you to head back home, to face those people who all treated you like crap, some family!” Emma said. “You faced all that for him, and he still couldn’t see it, how much you love him.”

“That’s right, he doesn’t deserve you,” Dierdre said.

“I’m not going to break up with him!” Craig yelled.

“No offense, love, but why the hell not?” Marilyn said. “That was some real shit he pulled! If I wasn’t worried about your criminal record, I would’ve been rooting for you to clock him one!”

“Well, he was only upset because I was acting so uncomfortable with us kissing in public,” Craig said.

His fury was abruptly overtaken by terror. _Oh my God… I did it again, the exact same thing that we broke up over last time… No… No, no, no, I can’t lose him again! I lost him once already, I can’t live through it again!_

In a blind panic, he got up and yelled, “Mar, I’m going home!” He wrenched his hands from Emma’s grasp and shoved Marilyn out of the booth so he could get around her.

Marilyn sputtered, “What? Wait a second, Craig—”

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow, all right? I’ve got to go.” He ran all the way back to their flat, feet pounding in a vain attempt to outrun the looming dread that he would be too late, and John Paul wouldn’t be willing to take him back.

Craig threw the door open, to see John Paul sitting stooped over in the darkness, and he almost lost his nerve. He stood awkwardly in the doorway for a few minutes catching his breath, one arm swinging and the other fiddling with the skin of his elbow.

“It’s so hard to admit, but I am. I’m… I’m gay,” he panted. Saying it felt wrong. It _was_ wrong. He wasn’t really sure what he was, but he was pretty sure he liked having sex with women. But Craig was willing to live a little white lie if it made John Paul happy.

John Paul approached him and placed his hands gently on his hips. “Your face right now… reminds me of the day before we were set to leave for Dublin. The first time. You told me how scared you were, that you needed for your mum to accept you, that you didn’t even know if you could come home for Christmas… You were in such a state…”

“I know, I know, I was a coward, I should have kissed you at the airport… that day...”

“No, Craig, I shouldn’t have pushed you to kiss me in public so soon. You were still coping. You didn’t have time, like I did, to get used to people staring. Because I didn’t give you time.”

“I’ll tell everyone I’m gay from now on, I promise, please, just don’t leave me.”

“Hey, are you even listening? Craig? Look at me, Craig. I won’t leave you. I shouldn’t have left you then.”

“W… What?” he blinked in confusion.

“Look Craig, after I got home… I was so angry, but I got to thinking, about my family and all… See, here’s the thing. Every time I think about my mum… it’s comforting, like, makes me feel better. I gave her a ring, and just hearing her voice, it just made everything alright, like I was a little kid again.”

Craig tried to retain his composure, but that struck a chord on his heart strings. He finally looked up, tears in his eyes as they locked with John Paul’s. “I was so happy, that day when we got in the cab. You were so ready to get away from everyone, but… hearing my mum tell me I’m still her son… you’ve got no idea, suddenly everything was okay.”

“I know. I remember. God, I wish I had cherished that smile. You were so happy, you looked like you were ready to walk on air. I think it’s the first time I ever saw you so truly happy.”

“It was all a lie though! The second you were gone, she was like, ‘Thank god you’re over with that _phase_ of yours. Now you can get serious, find yourself a girl. Maybe go after _Sarah_ again, she still wants you back.’ She was only _pretending,_ John Paul! The whole time she was just waiting for me to come back to my senses and be straight again!” Craig felt horrible. All his worst fears laid bare, despair flooding from his mouth, only now realizing how badly he needed John Paul to hear them.

“Oh, Craig, sweetheart.” John Paul tried to hold his hands, but he wouldn’t uncurl his fists.

“When I went home, she wasn’t even happy to see me. She didn’t even want me to come inside! She replaced me with some emo foster kid, right the second I was gone. It was like I was a nuisance, I was just in the way, no one wanted me there!”

“Shhh, that’s not true,” John Paul said, trying to pull him into a comforting embrace, but blocked by those same clenched fists.

“Yes it is! And it wasn’t just my family… you’d moved on too…”

“Craig, I still loved you.”

“But you’d got engaged to that priest. And you cheated on him with me while he was off getting murdered. If I hadn’t come back, everyone would have been better off. You would have married him, and he’d still be alive! And you could be with someone who’s not anxious having the big gay spotlight on him all the time!” Craig’s voice broke with a sickening crack.

“What happened to Kieron isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it? If you’d been at home with him, where you should have been—”

“Then Niall would have found another time to murder him! He was a serial killer, it’s not like he wasn’t willing to wait!” John Paul threw his hands up in defeat.

Craig cringed at the frustration in his voice. “I should’ve never come back to Hollyoaks. All I did was screw everything up all over again. You’d have been so much happier without me.”

“How could you ever think that?” John Paul said in a softer tone, and tried again to comfort him, this time with a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“How many times have we had the same fight? Where you want to snog me in public, and I can’t stand it, because everyone is staring!” Craig crouched to the ground, body hunched, both hands behind his head, wringing through the hair there. Shuddering, he said in an anguished cry, “And I can’t help it, I can’t stop! Every time I see people staring, I just can’t!”

John Paul knelt on the ground beside him and placed a hand, firmer this time, on his shaking shoulder. “Craig, you’re letting your emotions get the better of you again. It won’t always be like that, I promise. Do you know this is the first time you’ve ever admitted it? That you’re gay? It feels really good to get it out, you know? And look, I wasn’t comfortable with everyone knowing it at first. You’ll get used to it. You finally managed to admit it to yourself, and to me. That’s the first step. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to be patient with you this time, I promise. I’m not going to push you into being ready before you are. I’m not going to dump you. I’m going to be here for you, and support you, until you’re ready to tell everyone.” John Paul rubbed across the back of Craig’s shoulders as he spoke.

“What if I’m never ready?” Craig murmured, face still cast toward the ground.

“You will be, trust me. Remember how good it felt when your mum accepted you? It feels good, it always does.” John Paul wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tried to hold onto him, a difficult task while his body was still huddled on the floor.

Craig couldn’t even manage a response because he was crying too hard.

“I’m going to make you smile like that again. Like you did that day. I promise, I’m not going to stop until you do.”

Craig nodded, finally raising his head, face soaked with tears. He hadn’t expected himself to get so emotional, but hearing John Paul talk about these things was stirring up a lot of feelings that had been lying dormant in the murky sediment at the bottom of his mind. He was never sure what to do with his hands at times like these, so John Paul took them gently in his own to still their flailing. He led him to the couch, wrapped one arm around his shoulders and the other on the back of his head. Craig buried his head in John Paul’s shoulder and wringed his hands in the front of his shirt. It felt so good to be held like this, to be completely accepted.

After the tormented sobs had finally given way to subdued weeping, John Paul kissed Craig’s forehead, and said, “You feel better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Craig answered, drying his eyes on his sleeve, then kissed John Paul slowly on the lips. He jumped up abruptly and said, “I’m going to get a shower.”

“All right,” John Paul said. “Hey, Craig? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Craig looked at himself in the mirror. He had let his facial hair grow out after John Paul broke up with him, initially because he was too depressed to bother with any more than the bare minimum of personal grooming. By the time he had regained his will, he had gotten used to the way it felt. Besides, it hid how small and round his face was. At the time, he thought it would make him look more masculine. Less gay. No point with all that now.

With each stroke of the razor, he pulled away strips of his mask. The sink filled with flecks of black hair mixed with shaving gel, the grimy solution symbolic of the filthy feelings he wanted to scrape away from his skin. He watched it swirl down the drain, mesmerized, willing his uneasiness to wash away with it, and some of it did. Maybe the razor wasn’t sharp, because some roughness he simply couldn’t erase. He ran his hand along a smooth cheek. The razor was sharp. It was all in his head.

He finally looked in the mirror. He still had a girlish baby face. And now the world could see it again.

He wondered too about cutting his hair. He’d been wearing it longer, and it was naturally very puffy, so he’d have to do something different with it anyway to look professional for job interviews. He pulled it back with his hands to see if he could pull off the male ponytail look. Nope, big fat nope. Haircut it is.

_I guess I’ll have the same look I did in college… I bet John Paul will like that._

Once he was all cleaned up, he wandered back out to the kitchen. John Paul had just made coffee and offered him a cup. “You shaved,” he said. “You look good.” He held Craig’s hands again, looked deep into his eyes, and asked again, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Craig said truthfully, a smile sneaking its way onto his face despite himself. “It feels good.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss John Paul, just a chaste little peck on the lips, but it felt more intimate than anything between them had in years.

They wiled away the afternoon in quiet, peaceful conversation. John Paul talked about his plan to finish his teaching degree, and Craig in turn updated him about the various companies he was interested in working for after graduating.

It was amazing. The last time they’d had a fight this serious, John Paul had abandoned Craig, right there at the airport, to fly off to Dublin alone. This time, John Paul had apologized to Craig for rushing him into coming out before he was ready. And it had brought them closer together than they’d ever been. This sweet atmosphere was so intimate, and it felt so fragile. The air was finally clear between them, for the very first time.

“God, Craig, that smile. You could bring about world peace if you broke that out a little more often.” He kissed him again. “You’re beautiful.”

This unconditional kindness was so foreign, yet so comforting. Craig felt so safe, so loved, it almost broke his resolve. He _needed_ acceptance from his lover. He wanted to keep talking, to tell him that he still wasn’t totally sure he was gay, exactly, but was afraid John Paul would accuse him of trying to crawl back into the closet. There was no reason to push his luck. This was enough, more than enough.

So, before that fear could take hold of him, he staved it off with a longer, deeper kiss. “Hold me, John Paul,” he said, unable to completely mask the breathless desperation in his tone. “Touch me like this is the first time.”

John Paul grasped his head in both hands and pulled him in. “This is the first time. A new start for us. The first time you’ll ever give me your whole heart, no hesitation, because you’re not lying to yourself anymore. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Craig answered with a bittersweet smile. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of John Paul’s mouth gently tugging at his sensitive lower lip. John Paul tilted Craig’s head back, and he surrendered to the soft kisses on his neck. With his heightened emotions, his whole body tingled, so open to every touch, heat building with every caress of strong hands on his body.

They moved to the bedroom, and, true to his word, John Paul took things slow, like he was touching a virgin. Normally, Craig would have been irritated with him for being so gentle, but his nerves were so wired that even feather-light touch felt like a spark, and heavier contact sent a jolt straight through his heart.

Craig wasn’t sure if it was his own shift in perspective to a deeper trust allowing him to feel his lover’s attentions in a new way, or if John Paul really was touching him differently. For the first time, his own vulnerability didn’t scare him at all. He surrendered his pride and let himself _feel_ his passion burn with the glide of his hot tongue along the curve of his waist. He allowed a sigh of pleasure to escape his lips as John Paul kissed along his inner thighs, every nerve set ablaze by motion of his tongue.

“Turn over, love,” John Paul said, and Craig obeyed wordlessly. “You were in the shower a long time… I… can I put my tongue in your ass?”

“I… yeah, okay,” Craig said. He was given a few seconds of anticipation as John Paul licked up his thighs, slowly making his way closer. Then his hot tongue was circling the rim of Craig’s ass. “Oh, _yes,”_ he sighed, and felt a warm puff of breath as John Paul chuckled. Craig never felt anything like it. Had John Paul done this before with someone else? It didn’t matter, he was damn good at it. He used his fingers to spread Craig wider and pushed his tongue inside, and Craig felt so soft and open, the most intimate thing he had ever experienced.

John Paul stopped and laid his body over Craig’s, kissing his shoulder and gently stroking the sensitive tip of Craig’s cock with a single finger. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered in Craig’s ear.

“Yes,” Craig said, looking back to try to meet John Paul’s eyes, but John Paul was already back in position to prepare his ass. With Craig so relaxed, the first finger slipped in effortlessly and he was able to add two more in rapid succession. As John Paul worked to stretch him, he occasionally stroked over his prostate, sending jolts of electric heat through his body.

“Ready?” John Paul asked.

“Yes,” Craig said. John Paul rolled a condom on and slicked himself up, then pushed in, the hot stretch filling him up. Craig never knew sex could feel like this. Whether it was because of their conversation or because they were trying something new, the pounding of John Paul’s hips had never created these waves of intense pleasure before. Craig hardly even noticed John Paul reaching around to stroke his cock until he came into John Paul’s hand. few more strokes, and John Paul came too.

“Your voice, Craig,” John Paul said, breathing hard, “you sounded amazing, God, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”

Craig was silent for a while, just listening to the sound of his lover’s heavy breathing. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” John Paul answered, then pulled out.

It felt _so good._ Not just the sex. The warmth and kisses as John Paul cleaned him up. The way John Paul’s soft laughter sounded with Craig’s head nuzzled against his chest. The tickles and teasing at the hungry growl of his stomach. The good-natured bickering at what to order for takeaway. The lovestruck look in John Paul’s eyes as they ate, and the feel of his arm around Craig’s shoulder when they finished.

This tranquil harmony was balanced atop a ragged precipice. They had fought long and hard to finally scale their way to this glorious moment. But the plummet back to the rocky bottom would be even more treacherous than the ascent, and they were not prepared to navigate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a fairly simple project, but I've realized through writing it just how complex these two are as characters. Now I understand why I find them so intriguing that I wanted to go back and spend more time with them even after 12 years off the air!
> 
> Next chapter: I Want to Tell the World- Craig gets kinky


	4. I Want to Tell the World

Image was important in the business world, and John Paul couldn’t help but notice the change in Craig’s appearance.

As nice as it was that Craig was finally embracing life out of the closet, John Paul couldn’t help staring at his outfit, wondering if perhaps he’d gone too far. John Paul had never had the kinds of hang-ups about self-expression that his boyfriend did, so he was mystified by how much it mattered to him. John Paul couldn’t help the pang of nostalgia for the nervous boy with his ugly, ill-fitting clothes that he’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

It was amazing that a man who, just a few years ago, had panic attacks over John Paul picking up a pair of silky boxers at the laundromat because if might seem gay, was now perfectly comfortable wearing a fitted lavender satin button-down to work. _Very_ fitted.

John Paul fought the urge to ask who exactly Craig was dressing up for. After all, he dressed like this every day. _And besides,_ he gave himself a mini pep-talk, _you should be proud that he’s able to express himself like this now. He never would’ve been able to if you weren’t such a supportive boyfriend._ He grabbed Craig’s waist from behind and gently nipped at his neck. “I bet productivity at your office has dropped since you started working there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Craig asked.

“I for one wouldn’t be able to concentrate with you sitting there looking like that.”

“Oi, save that talk for the _end_ of the day. And cut it out with those cheesy pick-up lines, I’m not some drunk girl at a bar! We’ll both be late if you keep acting like a horny teenager.” Craig squirmed out of his arms and shrugged his blazer on, which mercifully left a lot more to the imagination. “Oh, I just remembered, don’t wait up tonight, I’ve got a work dinner to go to and the lads will probably want to grab drinks afterwards.” He must have seen the crestfallen look on John Paul’s face, because he laughed, gave him a kiss, and said, “Don’t worry. I know, networking’s a pain. But I’ve got a surprise planned for you tomorrow night, so don’t be too upset.”

John Paul was lonely without him. He spent as long as he could at the pub with his classmates, but they had class the next morning and homework to do, so he had to go home to an empty flat. He tried to concentrate on homework to no avail. He couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back to the way his boyfriend looked in that lavender button-down. He pictured Craig sitting in the office, oblivious as he always was, someone’s hand lingering on his narrow shoulder. He pictured him leaning by the water cooler, slender provocative body on full display, walking back to his desk with a sway of his hips, knowing that _someone’s_ eyes must be on him… _Don’t do this. He already said he’s got something special planned for tomorrow. Come on, John Paul. He’s thinking about you right now, you know he is._

He tried to snap himself out of that line of thinking, but instead just stressed himself out so much that he gave himself a headache. He swallowed some painkillers and flopped down in the bed. He had no intention of sleeping, he just wanted to zone out. He just wanted something, anything, to kill this swirling anxiety. He remembered hearing that screaming could make you feel better, so he smushed a pillow over his face and screamed into it. Why did he feel like this? Why did he still feel like Craig wasn’t really his? _We talked, we sorted it. Why does it still feel like he’s hiding something?_

John Paul cried himself to sleep before Craig even came home. And Craig left early, already rushing out the door by the time John Paul woke up.

The following afternoon, John Paul came home to find Craig sitting at the dining room table, working on his laptop, just like a totally normal afternoon. “Hey there, sexy,” Craig said, getting up and sauntering toward John Paul, “how was school?”

“Normal,” he replied. “How was work?”

“Normal too,” Craig said, then kissed him.

“You said you had a surprise.”

“I do.”

“You smell like you’ve just showered.”

“I have.”

“All right, come on then. What is it? I’m _dying_ to know,” John Paul said dramatically.

“Well, I’ve noticed how much you hate my work outfits,” Craig mumbled shyly.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, it _really_ seems to make you mad that I dress nice for work these days.”

John Paul looked at his clothes. It looked like a pretty normal outfit: black button down, red tie, black slacks, leather shoes. “…Nope, I’m lost. No idea what you’re getting at.”

“Tch. Why do I bother?” Craig said. “Look, this I’m wearing now, it’s not one of my real work shirts, it’s a cheap knock-off. So, you can… well, I don’t know, like… you can ruin it a little, if you want. The tie’s a cheap clip-on too. Oh, my pants are normal though, please don’t mess those up. I got some cheap ones, but they don’t fit right, they’re horrible and unflattering. God, this didn’t go according to plan at all. You know what, forget it, before I humiliate myself even more.”

“You’re not humiliating yourself, I like it,” John Paul said. “I just… it’s not something I would’ve just guessed, since you didn’t give me any hints or context. I love it though! Here, give me a sec,” he turned away from Craig for a moment to swallow a giggle. Once he had composed himself, he swiveled around and said in a voice deeper than his own, “Mr. Dean, I need to speak with you in my office. In private! That’s right, it’s come to my attention that you are… fatally attractive! And it’s causing a distraction in the workplace!”

“Oh, boy…” Craig cringed.

“What? Too much?” John Paul teased.

“That’s not quite I had in mind,” Craig answered, shoulders hunched with discomfort.

“What? You don’t want me to play your porno boss? Okay, your loss…”

“All right then,” Craig said skeptically. “Just one thing though… if you’re going to roleplay as one of my asshole coworkers, you’re going to need a safe word.”

“Darren Osbourne,” John Paul said immediately.

“Oddly specific, and unconventional, going for the sibling? Also, I’m horrified by how quickly you came up with that.”

“Hey, I’ve fantasized about certain possibilities before,” John Paul said.

“Right… I’m choosing not to examine that statement too closely,” Craig mumbled. “Okay, I guess I’ll go with Mercedes McQueen for mine, then.”

“Perfect. Total turn-off. Love it,” John Paul said, beaming.

“Maybe a little too good. I’m one hundred percent turned off now.” Craig indicated his unbridled disgust with a withering glare.

“Well,” John Paul answered in his deep imaginary coworker voice with a goofy cock of his eyebrow, “maybe I can fix that.” He thought for a second, then said in his normal voice, “Wait a second. You don’t actually fantasize about getting fucked by your asshole coworkers, do you?”

“No, of course not,” Craig said, voice full of spite. “But I wouldn’t mind hate-fucking their stupid macho brains out until they beg for mercy. That’d show them, put them in their place, getting their asses railed by the ‘cute little fairy boy.’”

“Oh, yes, God, _yes.” Damn, how did he get so good at this? He sounds furious._

Craig closed his eyes and took a few deep, even breaths. “Wait… John, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I’ve got my safe word, haven’t I?”

Craig considered for a moment, then reset himself. “All right. That’s what you really want? All this time, all this effort you put into teasing me, tormenting me, putting me down, all along it was really because you _want me.”_

“Hell yes,” John Paul said, practically drooling at the venom in his lover’s voice.

“Well, karma’s a bitch, motherfucker. You spent so much time staring at my ass, you seem to have forgotten I’ve got a cock too.” Craig advanced into John Paul’s space and grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands.

“Holy shit…” John Paul said breathlessly.

“That’s right. Don’t feel like such a big man now, do you?” Craig growled into his neck, and bit it, hard. “You’re going to shove your stupid face down into the ground and wave your pale, flabby arse up in the air, and I’m going to pound into you until you forget you’ve ever made love to a woman. And you’re going to _love_ it.”

“YES!” John Paul said, pulled his pants off and assumed the position as his lover instructed, right there on the living room floor. He anticipated spanks, more bites, but Craig just spaced out and didn’t touch a thing.

“Oh. Hold up. Time out.”

“Aaaaah! Craig, stop doing that! You’re driving me nuts!”

“Well, sorry. I told you, I was preparing for a slightly different scenario,” Craig said.

“So?” John Paul exclaimed, nails digging into the carpet in frustration.

“So, you haven’t bottomed in, like, months,” Craig said, “I don’t want to hurt you. We need stuff. Come on, everything’s still in the normal drawer.”

“Well hurry up and get it then!” John Paul said. His cock twitched painfully from being too hard for too long without a single touch. “I’m not exactly in a great position to move anywhere at the moment!”

“Oh, right. Good plan.”

John Paul groaned, “I think I might hate you right now.”

“Consider this part of your punishment,” Craig said with a playful slap to his ass, then went to get his supplies from the bedroom. He turned around to clarify, “You my asshole coworker, not you John Paul.”

“Craig, sweetheart, let’s establish some ground rules,” John Paul growled into the floor. “If you’re going to get me this turned on, one, hurry the fuck up, and two, _stay in character!”_

Craig did a pretty good job following those instructions. His acting chops were beyond wooden, but it was so adorable that he was trying. If John Paul really squinted, he could pretend that Craig’s silly little spanks were enough to _really_ scratch that itch. Every so often, Craig would reach around and give his cock a squeeze, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to keep John Paul completely on edge. The ‘meanest’ he got with his preparation was not warming the lube on his fingers before he carefully worked them in. Oh well, this was only his first time doing something like this. Now that he was getting more open about things, maybe John Paul would be able to talk him into upping the intensity next time.

Things were smooth sailing, until Craig took his pants off, revealing that he was wearing white lacy women’s underwear with a little sky-blue ribbon. He wasn’t hard at all, but it was still a _good_ look. “Whoops… forgot I was wearing these…” Craig mumbled. “Um… what should I…?”

“Well keep them on, of course!” John Paul said. He switched back to his ‘coworker’ voice and continued, “Shit, yes, I’ve been a total piece of shit, haven’t I? Yeah, I’m going to get my brains fucked out by the cute little fairy boy in his pretty lingerie!”

Craig gripped John Paul’s hips like a wince, nails digging in painfully. _Hell yes, finally, he’s putting his money where his mouth is. Hell yeah, get angry, do it rough!_ Craig grabbed John Paul by the hair and ground his face into the carpet violently. _Oh shit, maybe he’s too angry…_ John Paul tried to look back, to meet his eyes, but he couldn’t move. He hadn’t seen this side of Craig in a very long time. In fact, Craig had been uncharacteristically passive ever since the two of them had reunited.

John Paul cursed the logical part of his brain for waiting this long to start functioning. _Oh, shit. Do his coworkers really harass him like this? Holy shit… that networking event last night must have been torture for him. Is he even having fun right now, or is he legitimately upset?_ Craig had beaten him up before, it was a long time ago, but he was perfectly capable of doing it again. _If he’s still emotional about his coworkers acting like a bunch of bigots… he might not still be in control of himself. Oh God, he could hurt me if he puts it in now. That’s why he made me give him a safe word, shit, shit, shit, he was dead serious…_

John Paul was just about to say it, but Craig beat him to the punch. In a nervous voice he said, “Hey, um, John. I know you wanted me to stay in character and all that…”

“Don’t worry about that,” John Paul sighed with relief. “I got carried away. Just forget it, forget the role-playing. You don’t have to be mad to screw me silly.” _What was I thinking? That was a terrible idea. Thank God he was still in control, that could have gone so horribly wrong…_

“Sorry. I didn’t scare you, did I?” Craig asked with real concern.

“No… well, yeah, you did. Only for a second there. But that’s okay, I trust you,” John Paul answered.

“Are you comfortable down there?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying. Get on the couch.”

“Roger that, captain,” John Paul said, and complied with the command.

There was a pause. “I can’t stand it when they talk to me like that,” Craig said with resignation, unable to meet his lover’s eyes.

John Paul wanted to redirect him from letting his mind go to that dark place, so he spread his legs and wiggled his hips invitingly and said, “You’re more of a man than the lot of those pathetic jerks put together. Panties and all.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Craig purred fondly. “Oh, speaking of, that reminds me…” he said, locking eyes with him and slowly unbuttoning his top with a mischievous little grin.

“No _way_ ,” John Paul gasped. Yup, there it was. A tiny little bra to match. He almost drooled in admiration over the set, noticing with amusement that the panties weren’t going to last much longer at this rate. “Oh, _yes._ I can die happy now.”

“Please don’t, that would be very inconvenient,” Craig joked morbidly, then leaned over to kiss him. Then he finally, _finally,_ got to the good part. And he made it well worth the wait. He slipped the panties off, then crawled on the couch, straddling John Paul. He guided his John Paul’s head down and instructed, assertive but still gentle, “Suck.”

John Paul followed the command with a smile. Craig wasn’t fully hard yet, but a few languid strokes of his tongue later, he was almost there. John Paul took him all the way into his mouth, and Craig started rocking his hips, almost fucking into John Paul’s mouth. Craig slipped a hand down to tease at John Paul’s ass, John Paul moaned with pleasure, and Craig grew harder on his tongue. Craig pushed his fingers in deeper, brushing gently over his prostate. John Paul threw his head back and yelped in pleasure. Craig’s fingers brushed over it a few more times, then pressed down gently, and John Paul released all over his stomach.

Despite how amazing that felt, John Paul was crestfallen. “I wanted to wait,” he panted, “until you were inside me. I wanted…”

“That’s okay,” Craig said, “in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m enjoying your mouth just fine.”

John Paul searched his face for any sign of disappointment, peering deep into Craig’s inscrutable brown eyes, but couldn’t find any useful answers there. “I want you to,” John Paul said.

“Okay,” Craig answered. He pulled John Paul’s hips closer to the edge of the couch and spread another coating of lube around his rim. “Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” he said, rolling the condom down and lubing himself with a few gentle strokes. He lined himself up and pressed in ever so gently. John Paul appreciated his caution, because as sensitive as he was, his nerves were overloaded just with the feel of it, let alone any movement. He panted at the stretch, tight enough to be just a little painful. When he was ready, he nodded, and Craig started moving.

Amazingly enough, John Paul felt himself hardening again. Apparently being kept on edge for nearly an hour had a special effect on his body. He gave himself a few strokes, but he wanted more. Craig’s cock was already buried deep in him, but he wanted to be wrapped up by Craig’s hands too, so he guided them there. He felt so close to his lover, the intimacy of being filled with him, being surrounded by his hands, he wanted more though, he wanted to be even closer, to kiss him as well. Craig lost the rhythm of his hands as he came. He panted for a few seconds, then started to pull back.

“Craig wait, I want… stay inside while you help me finish,” John Paul begged. “And, kiss me, too.” John Paul tried to meet his eyes again, but Craig complied with his request too quickly, leaning in for the kiss before he could. Craig’s tongue entered his mouth, caressing his own, and John Paul reached completion for the second time. Craig pulled away from the kiss and pulled out of John Paul, and as he did John Paul realized that was the first time they had kissed since yesterday morning. No wonder it felt so good.

Craig went to the bathroom for towels and brought them back. He sat down and they cleaned themselves up. He needed help removing the bra, so John Paul obliged with a chuckle. _How did he get this ridiculous contraption on in the first place?_ Craig was cranky about it but seeing the red marks it had left behind on his chest, John Paul could understand why. He pulled Craig down to snuggle on the couch with him, curling up against Craig’s chest to trace the bra marks with one finger.

“Well, I can check that of my big gay bucket list,” John Paul said jovially, his finger still following the raw red channels. “Got fucked by a man in women’s lingerie. Check! Officially the gayest thing I’ve ever done.”

“John, not now, please,” Craig said, remaining stiff in John Paul’s arms.

“Right, okay,” John Paul said, flopping backward into the couch cushions. “No basking in the afterglow for me, nope, that’s not allowed, because my boyfriend is a grouch.”

“John, I said _no.”_ Craig sat upright on the couch.

“Why do you do this, eh?” John Paul grumbled with exasperation. “What’s the point of always ruining the moment?”

“You know I hate being in the big gay spotlight, I’ve told you that,” Craig said, hunched forward with his forehead resting on his hands.

“Are you saying you regret being out of the closet?”

“No, I just don’t like people treating me like some prissy little _princess._ ”

“In other words, you don’t like people treating you like you’re gay.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, John! People still treat _you_ like you’re a man!” Craig stood up, and furiously started pacing the room.

“Who cares what they think?”

“I’m not bothered by _them_. I’m bothered by the fact that _you_ seem to think it doesn’t matter!”

“It doesn’t! And if you don’t want people to treat you different, maybe don’t dress so slutty!”

“You…” Craig turned his head back toward the couch to glare at John Paul.

John Paul took that as his cue to get up from his lounging position. “Look, I’m sorry people at work have been harassing you, that’s not right. But I don’t know what you want me to do about it!”

“Oh, maybe start by _not fetishizing it,_ and then we can go from there!” Craig said, clenching his fists and leaning forward.

John Paul stood up. “If it upset you, why’d you go along with it? For that matter, why’d you go and put on women’s underwear? Last I checked, I didn’t ask you to do that, did I?”

“That’s different! That’s private!” Craig turned his back to John Paul. “I don’t want what I do in private broadcast to every single person I’ve ever met so they can all judge me! Look, the idea with the lingerie was to show you you’re special to me, so you’d hopefully quit behaving like a jealous brat towards anyone who so much as makes eye contact with me. Has it not once occurred to you that _groping me_ in front of these people is what subconsciously gives them permission to treat me like a helpless sex object when you’re not around to ‘protect’ me? You don’t have to stake your claim on me all over the place like a mindless ape!”

“Oh, I see you’ve been chatting with that gender studies major from uni again.”

Craig whipped back around to face John Paul. “Don’t change the subject, and don’t trivialize it!”

“You’re the one getting totally sidetracked! What’s that even got to do with anything?”

“Everything! Were you even listening?” Craig flailed his arms.

“Apparently not,” John Paul answered sardonically.

“Okay, then,” Craig growled through gritted teeth, “I’ll simplify for you. You outed me to my family by setting me up for my fiancée to find us kissing. I almost lost them forever, and my relationship with them will never be the same again. More importantly, you completely violated my trust. That was _my_ decision to make, not yours, and you took the choice away from me. And even after that, after I had given up _everything else in my life_ for you, you still dumped me right afterwards, just because I wasn’t comfortable giving you a big gay public kiss yet.”

“If you’re still mad about all that,” John Paul advanced menacingly into Craig’s space, “then why’d you even come back for me in the first place?”

“I’m not. I forgave you. I know I made mistakes too,” Craig said, backing up.

“You sure did,” John Paul said, pressing his advantage.

“Yeah, I know,” Craig said, putting his hands out, a silent message to back off. “The issue is, you _keep doing it,_ even though you promised that from now on you’d support me and let me come out to people at my pace from now on. The business world is notorious for its culture of toxic masculinity, and I was trying to build up a reputation so they wouldn’t pigeonhole me into a cute, convenient little gay stereotype before I even had a chance to make an impression.”

“Why the clothes then?” John Paul said, retreating and throwing his arms up in frustration.

“I wear the same style of clothes everyone else does, John. I’ve not exactly got the traditionally ‘masculine’ body type, so a normal button down looks different on me than other blokes. Besides, you know you really can’t see anything once I’ve got the blazer on.”

“I didn’t realize you were so insecure about your appearance,” John Paul quipped.

“All right. I have had just about enough of trying to please your jealous, needy ass for one night.” Craig stormed to the bedroom to find himself a fresh set of clothes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” John Paul followed him and hovered in the bedroom doorway.

“It means,” Craig said, yanking his pants on, “if you’re not going to apologize for trying to police my appearance and behaving like I’m some helpless trollop, then I think I can find someone less _stifling_ to spend a Friday night with.” He punctuated the word by putting his hand on John Paul’s chest and shoving him out of the doorway. “Some of my mates are going clubbing tonight. They probably haven’t even left yet, so I’m going to catch up with them. See you sometime tomorrow, or maybe Sunday, who knows?”

“That’s a real mature way to handle this situation. How am I supposed to apologize if you just leave? Craig, seriously, this is literally coming out of nowhere, I had no idea you were upset about any of this, because you’ve never told me before! Just relax, would you, and give me a second to figure out what you’re talking about!”

“You’re the one who thought it would be sexy to make me as angry as humanly possible. Congratulations, you succeeded! I am at my threshold for tonight, and I need to get away from you.”

“No, Craig, you need to sit down and talk to me. Why haven’t you told me anything about the way they’re treating you at work? We could have talked about this! How am I supposed to help if you don’t tell me anything?” He grabbed Craig’s arm, and Craig shrank away from his touch.

It was a gesture of fear, not hostility, and Craig was on the verge of breaking down, of telling him everything, of drenching his shirt in tears and falling asleep in his arms. Not just everything about work, absolutely everything, all ready to blossom from the depths of his soul.

John Paul was completely disoriented. How could this have gone so wrong so quickly? How did this fight even start? What was it even about? And how was he ever supposed to figure it out if Craig just ran off again? He let a wave of righteous fury wash over him. “Don’t you dare walk away from me right now!” he yelled. “Coward!”

That was it. The beginning of the end. Their precarious emotional intimacy had slipped from its crest.

Without turning back, without a moment of hesitation, Craig stormed out. John Paul didn’t know that he was running so fast because he needed to be out the door before the tears erupted from his eyes. Craig didn’t know that the slam of the door behind him triggered a volcanic explosion from John Paul. He circled the room frantically, building up momentum for several minutes, then fell to his knees on the floor with a bloodcurdling scream. 

From that point forward, Craig no longer felt radiant comfort in John Paul’s embrace. He still pined for him when they were apart, but the closeness he craved wasn’t quenched by the time they spent together. He would forevermore live in fear that anything he said could lead to another fight like that one. He could never regain the bond unless he opened his heart, but his budding trust was shattered.

From that point forward, John Paul no longer felt the glow of joy when Craig smiled. Something about it always seemed hollow and frigid. Like he was seeing it through an invisible twisted veil that could never be lifted. No feverish gesture of affection had enough heat to pierce into that void, and he was lonely even when Craig was right there by his side.

They still tried to make it work. After everything they had been through, all the pain they had shared, they couldn’t just turn away from each other. Crystals of frost slowly crept across the window separating them, obscuring them ever more from view. They acclimated to the change in climate, and blazing memories held them together like a spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Put a Bag on My Head- Craig goes to work


	5. Put a Bag on My Head

Something was different this time. They fought, then they had sex. That’s how they had always done things. After the way things had almost ended, it was so natural to fall back into that pattern, their safe and familiar rhythm lulling them into temporary stability.

After their fight on Friday night, Craig met up with his acquaintances to go clubbing with them, but when they saw the mood he was in, they called his best friend Marilyn. Things had been getting serious between her and her girlfriend lately, so she didn’t join in the partying much these days. Craig was irritated when she showed up, because he wasn’t keen on yet another round of “I told you so” on the subject of John Paul. Their acquaintances steadfastly refused to take him drinking in the state he was in though, so he was stuck with Marilyn for the night.

She didn’t press the issue, though. They ordered takeaway and ate in silence while they shared a bottle of wine back at her flat.

Finally, Craig couldn’t take the suspense anymore. “Are you going to ask me…?”

Marilyn looked at him sadly. “Is there anything I could say that would stop you going back to him again?”

Craig felt his face heat up. He felt like a child being reprimanded for scribbling on the walls with his crayons. “No,” he admitted.

“Then what’s the point in saying anything?” she asked solemnly.

Craig didn’t answer her. He felt so pathetic, so worthless, too weak to make things right. Marilyn didn’t believe that he had the strength to make things work with John Paul. She was probably right. All he ever did was hurt the people he loved.

They finished eating in silence, then moved to the couch. Marilyn brought out pillows and a blanket, and they half-watched a movie together. Craig was hit with a wave of guilt. She was still being so nice to him even though she’d probably be having a fun Friday night if he weren’t here. She only put up with him out of pity.

Marilyn did pity Craig a little, but he had become family to her. The family she was born into didn’t accept her for who she was, so she found a new one when she traveled to Dublin for university. The two of them had become bonded by their shared pain of rejection. For better or for worse, he’d always be her hopeless little brother, and she’d always be willing to cancel her Friday night plans when he needed her. When he finally drifted off, she tucked him in and gave him a kiss on the forehead, like a child. 

Craig woke up around one in the afternoon. Marilyn wasn’t home, so he texted her to let her know he’d left, and then wandered aimlessly around the city for a few hours. He took a wrong turn at some point and ended up lost in a shady-looking run-down area with graffiti everywhere. Maybe he’d get stabbed here. Maybe someone would care, but it was doubtful. Internally, he challenged this ‘dangerous part of town’ to do its worst, which naturally resulted in an uneventful journey. Not so even a boring drug solicitation. He kept walking in a straight line until he saw a familiar street, and he was back in his own world. Eventually he remembered to eat something and grabbed fish and chips from a roadside stand. He might as well have been gnawing on cardboard for all he could taste.

When it started getting dark, he finally forced himself to go home. In a daze, he walked right past John Paul, ignoring his attempts to talk. He spaced out standing in the shower, the hot water embracing him like a protective cloak, only realizing where he was when the water turned cold. He went straight to bed after that, pretending to be asleep so John Paul would leave him alone, while in reality he lay wide awake in an empty trance. Whether he ever fell asleep or not was anyone’s guess, but at the sight of the greying dawn his internal void flooded with dread. Maybe he should have stayed with Marilyn for another night, so he could avoid this awkward Sunday with his lover.

Craig managed to get dressed without waking John Paul. He spent the entire morning staring blankly at his laptop screen saver. John Paul woke up in the late morning, ending his reverie. John Paul made himself breakfast, never making eye contact or speaking at all, then went to the living room sofa to eat with the TV on. Craig packed up his laptop to spend a few hours at a café or something, away from the blaring sound of reality TV shows. He tried to get some work done, but his fingers were too stiff to type, as if they were frostbitten.

They finally spoke to each other in the evening. Only single sentences at a time. They both apologized for overreacting, but the pain lingered, and they couldn’t do much more than that. They went to bed turned away from each other, without so much as a kiss.

Craig was immediately reminded upon his return to work that, despite his relationship being rocked to its core, his other problems weren’t going anywhere.

“Good morning, sweet-cheeks!” one of his co-workers chimed with a slap on the ass. “Oh, sorry, hon. Still sore from last night?”

The rest of the office laughed, and in the din of their cruel mirth someone exclaimed, “Faggot!”

Craig trudged past them, eyes downcast, and plopped down miserably at his desk. He opened the lid of his takeaway coffee and stuffed his nose and mouth over the opening to breathe in deeply. _Is this how aromatherapy is supposed to work? I must be doing it wrong._ He didn’t really need caffeine at this point. He was plenty awake already, pulse bounding thanks to that heartwarming welcome. He took a sip anyway, and the lukewarm acid on his tongue made him contemplate vomiting. Sporadic bursts of laughter continued to taunt him from over the divider. _This is going to be a long week._

He stooped over his computer and willed himself to focus on work. Surprisingly, he managed to get a decent amount done before the boss showed up, an hour after everyone else as he usually did on a Monday morning.

“Knock, knock! Earth to Craig!”

Craig steeled himself and turned around. “Yes, Peter?”

“Good morning, Craig. Did you know, everyone else said ‘good morning’ when I came in?”

“Good morning, Peter,” he said, feigning pleasantry the best he could.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man,” he said and approached Craig’s desk, standing too close and using his height to impose over him.

Craig flinched and spilled cold coffee all over his desk.

“Whoops, clumsy!” Peter chuckled. “Maybe you’d be awake if you actually drank that, darling.”

“Don’t—” Craig bit his lip before he said anything to make this even worse for himself.

“Hmm, right. Go get yourself another coffee and come back when you’re actually awake, space case.” Peter turned away, and Craig silently cursed that huge, pale, flabby man for all he was worth. “Oh, and sweetheart? Grab me a cup while you’re at it, there’s a good lad.”

Craig knew this game. The worst part of it was, Peter didn’t say anything _technically_ wrong. If Craig went to human resources and gave them a word for word reenactment, he’d only end up with a “chin up buttercup” and a reputation for overreacting.

How he longed for the days of his high school bully, Sonny Valentine. Sonny just threatened him and called him names. Peter was far more insidious, faking fatherly concern for a broken little bird. Truthfully, he’d already had his claws in Craig’s side before he saw John Paul kiss him, but that tidbit gave him all the momentum necessary to wrench him in and hover his jaws down over his jugular. All he had to do was bite, but he was a cruel beast who liked the feel of his prey struggling beneath his paws.

“Just leave it on the table there,” Peter said, not looking up from his workstation.

Craig hesitated, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Peter continued to ignore him. Apparently, he was off the hook, for now.

He stepped toward the exit, but just as he reached the doorway, Peter said, “I worry about you, you know. Come on, turn around, there’s a good boy. Tsk, tsk, look at that frown, sourpuss. Look, the lads are always going to have their fun with you if you keep acting so… hmm… how do I put this… spicy. You get what you put out, son, and all that negative energy is bound to bring people down. You hear? Let’s see you turn that pretty little frown upside down, there you go. Now see, if you can just behave yourself a little more pleasant, they won’t mess you around so much.”

Craig shuffled back to his desk, all motivation sacked. He had worked so hard in school, believing it would earn him a good career and respect, and yet here he was. He heard someone whisper, “walk of shame,” and he died inside.

Coming home was no reprieve. “Hey,” John Paul immediately rushed up to him and held his shoulders. “How was work?”

Without meaning to, Craig flinched at the contact. He sensed the probing concern in John Paul’s voice, and shut it down. “Fine. I told you, I overreacted, and you misinterpreted. Everything is fine.” These fake smiles were becoming increasingly painful.

Craig was so wrapped up in his own misery that it never occurred to him how much it hurt his lover to see him lie about this. Even before they got to know each other, John Paul had gone out of his way to protect him from Sonny Valentine. Sonny had taunted Craig for needing a protector, which he hated of course, but things were so different now. Peter was using his own identity against him, and his one remaining sliver of pride was staying strong enough not to _need_ saving. Not from human resources, and not from John Paul.

The only time he could be free from that mask was when he was out in the night life. There was no need anymore to worry what people thought, because these were the people that society had cast aside, many of them much more so than himself. Now that Marilyn was settling down, he was completely alone to lose himself in the loud music and the sea of random gyrating bodies.

John Paul thought those places were seedy and hated that Craig spent time there, but he was a man’s man who fit right in at a regular pub where everyone drank beer and talked about football, so he never had a reason to venture into that niche.

As time went on, Craig became numb to the feel of the false grin carved into his face. Peter was an idiot, upper management knew that, and if he could just work hard enough to catch the eye of one of the higher-ups, he’d be out from under that animal’s thumb. Besides, partying all the time had lost its appeal. At first he thought he was glad to be rid of Marilyn’s nagging, but more and more often he ended the night staring at her name in his contacts list, willing himself not to call. Without her to come save him from himself, all he felt was empty and alone. Might as well focus on work. Sure, it was torture being around his homophobic colleagues, but the harder he worked now, the sooner those oafs would be working for him, regretting everything they’d ever said.

John Paul could feel his love slipping away.

He watched as Craig became a total workaholic. John Paul was concerned about his obsessive focus on getting promoted. Far too many nights, he went to dinner with colleagues to network, and came home anxious and miserable. He kept telling himself things would get better, but months went by and it only seemed to get worse. Tonight, John Paul resolved, he was going to talk to him about it.

“Hey, honey,” John Paul said, carefully not getting up from his spot on the couch. Craig told him he needed a few minutes to himself when he first got home, and John Paul was trying to respect his wishes. “How was work?”

“Same old,” Craig answered mechanically.

“Craig, I… there’s something I want to talk to you about, okay? When you’re ready, come sit with me.”

“Okay. Let me get a shower first.”

“Okay, take your time,” John Paul said wistfully. He knew full well that Craig did that on purpose, to hide from him for an hour or so. It used to make him angry, and he used to pursue, but he’d learned his lesson by now. Pushing would only push him farther away.

Craig came back about an hour later in sweatpants and an oversized sweater. He sat down as far away from John Paul as he could, perched on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, head pitched forward, hand running nervously through the hair on the back of his head. John Paul waited for him to say something. It took some time, but eventually he stuttered, “So, what… what’s this all about then, eh?”

John Paul tread very carefully with his words. “You’re working so hard lately. What’s… Why are you so focused on getting promoted lately?”

“I care about my career, you know that.”

“Well, I know, but… it seems like there’s more to it than that,” John Paul said. “You’re just really driving yourself awfully hard, and I don’t… I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“That’s it? Well, I’m fine, it’s normal to work hard. Speaking of, I’ve got a few things to work on.”

“Craig, for fuck’s sake!” John Paul snapped. He stopped himself, took a few deep breaths to get his anger in check, then pleaded, “Please talk to me. I feel like I’m not a part of your life anymore. I feel like… do we even have a future together?”

“What are you talking about? Of course we do.”

“Do we though? I don’t know… Where do we even go from here?”

“I don’t know. Where does any relationship _go_ , really?” Craig asked honestly.

“Well, there’s marriage. And kids. That’s the future you would’ve ended up with if you’d chosen Sarah.”

“Maybe. We never talked about kids, but I suppose it might’ve come to that, eventually,” Craig said noncommittally.

John Paul pressed his lips together, but not fast enough to contain the beginnings of a sob. Reaching out to touch his lover would be so easy, every fiber of his being starved, yearning for the contact. But if he did, Craig would flinch away from him. Craig would flinch, and John Paul’s heart would break. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he asked, “Is that why you didn’t want to be with a man? We can still have all that, there’s adoption, there’s surrogacy, we can still have a normal life!”

“You’ve never mentioned wanting kids,” Craig said.

“When have I had the chance? You’re always out, you want to be anywhere but here with me! And besides, what’s the point? You don’t even love me anymore!”

“Yes, I do,” Craig said, voice soft and trembling.

“Well, you have a funny way of showing it!” John Paul cried, unable to contain his anguish any longer. He dropped his head into his hands and let loose the tears he’d been holding back.

Craig sat quietly for a while, considering the situation. He watched John Paul’s chest heaving and realized for the first time how his avoidant behavior was affecting his lover. He never meant to hurt John Paul. His guilt was an unwieldy monstrosity dragging him into the depths, and this confession doubled its crushing weight. With his next words, he gasped for air. He tried to comfort John Paul, tried to make it right. “I love you, I do, I really do. I’m sorry I’ve done such a shit job showing it lately. Things at work are… complicated… but I’ll sort it, so don’t worry about that.” He shifted closer to John Paul, held his hand and kissed his shoulder. “I still love you. And if you want kids, let’s talk about it.”

“Wait… you want kids too?” John Paul asked.

“Eventually, yeah, I suppose. I don’t know that it’s really the best idea right now, given the state our relationship is in, but we’ll sort things out,” Craig said.

“What? What’s the problem, we’re still in love, aren’t we?” John Paul said, voice saturated with heartbroken desperation.

Craig said what he could to placate him. “Well, yeah,” he answered, “but we’re in a bit of a rough patch right now. We’ve not been exactly honeymooning it up lately, and kids… kids put a lot of strain on a relationship. So it’s important to be at a really strong point before you start all that, otherwise… well, you’ve got to be at your best before you take on a whole new challenge, right?”

“You’re right,” John Paul said sadly, “but why is it like this? I feel like we’re drifting apart, and I don’t know what to do about it. I just want something, anything, some sort of commitment, anything to hold us together, because… what else is there?”

Craig lifted John Paul’s arm up and cuddled himself underneath it with a kiss on the cheek. “I know. I know, it’s mostly my fault, and I’m sorry about that. Work has been… well, not what I expected it to be like, and I’m… I’m still… adjusting. I had it in my head that I’d be really successful, but I wasn’t prepared for the amount of grunt work I’m going to have to do in order to get there. I think, once I’ve got my career sort of really kicked off, you know, it’s going to be better. Kids are expensive, too, so it’s important that I stay kind of focused on that, for now. I’m trying to build a life for us, I am, I promise, and I’m sorry that there’s parts of that you just aren’t a part of, but I promise, I’m doing it all for you. I love you, John Paul,” he said, and leaned up for a kiss.

John Paul accepted it passively and cried some more.

Craig held him tighter. A series of excuses wasn’t enough to make up for the way he’d been pushing John Paul away. John Paul needed more than that. “Soon, John, I promise. Soon,” Craig said, hoping that the promise would make up for how coldly he’d been treating John Paul lately. It wouldn’t though. He would have to do more to provide John Paul with the life he wanted, the life he deserved. Craig got up and grabbed the tissue box, holding it out to John Paul. John Paul accepted the offer and cleaned up his face.

When he was finished, Craig climbed into his lap. “I love you, John Paul,” he said, then caressed his cheek and kissed him deeply. John Paul received it as a romantic gesture of comfort and reassurance, but Craig grew increasingly nervous at John Paul’s lack of obvious arousal. Craig thrust his hips forward, and his kisses became more desperate. He fondled John Paul’s shoulders and pectorals, and gave an audible moan, just the way that always turned him on.

Craig was putting on a performance, and a part of John Paul knew that. He wanted so badly to believe that everything was all right. It had been a while since there had been any real spark between them. He wasn’t going to let this chance slip by. Maybe his passion would be enough to bring Craig’s whole heart back to him. The way his blood was pounding in his head, it felt powerful enough to move mountains, so it must be enough. It had to be enough.

Craig took the lead, pulling John Paul toward the bedroom by the hand, undoing his belt buckle. When they were fully undressed, he laid John Paul down on his back, he kissed up and down his torso, teased his nipples, complimented the muscles in his chest. He didn’t spend too much time on foreplay, sucking John Paul’s cock deep into his throat and teasing the rim of his ass with slick fingers. As John Paul’s thrusts grew erratic, he pressed a single finger inside to press against his sweet spot and swallowed it down when he came.

Craig played every one of John Paul’s favorite notes, and John Paul was mesmerized by the melody. Too entranced by his own pleasure, he failed to notice that Craig had taken none himself. Craig rested his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, nothing to clean up.

As his heartbeat slowed, John Paul turned Craig’s face toward him, looked deep into Craig’s eyes and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Craig answered, his expression neutral.

“You promise?” John Paul asked.

“I promise,” Craig said. He leaned in to kiss him and said, “Soon, John. I promise, soon.”

John Paul waited, but soon was always just over the horizon, never quite in sight. Months passed in this strange expectant limbo. If anything, their heartfelt conversation had made Craig even more distant. Instead of blatant misery and avoidance, he now wore the permanent mask of a pleasant smile. _He’s trying,_ he told himself.

One day, as they were standing in the kitchen, John Paul could not stand the suspense any longer. He’d brought it up a few times, only for Craig to brush it off and make excuses, so this time he pushed a little more. “I have to know… are you serious? Do we really have a future together? Are we really going to start a family together?”

“Of course, love,” Craig answered, running his hand through the hair on the back of his head. That was a tic John Paul hadn’t seen since the days of…

“Sarah,” John Paul gasped with horror.

“What?” Craig asked, “Why would you bring _that_ up out of nowhere?”

“This is what you did… when you promised me… you’d break up with Sarah…” he hyperventilated. “Oh my God… over and over, there was always another excuse…”

“John—”

“No…” John Paul took a few measured breaths to get himself under control. His wild eyes still blown wide, he continued in a robotic voice, “you’re doing it again. You’re lying to me again.”

“I’m not!” Craig exclaimed, standing.

“You’re going to break my heart again,” John Paul monotoned blankly at the wall.

“No, I’m not!” Craig yelled. “I’m trying to save up some money, and, and we need to, there’s a lot to figure out, we don’t even know yet how we want, I mean, are we adopting or what? We never talked about that.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about it now.” John Paul finally made eye contact. “You say you have a plan? Let’s hear it.”

“Okay,” Craig mumbled, shuffling his feet. “Yeah, okay, let me get my notes.”

Craig went back to the living room and pulled his laptop out of his briefcase, then set it up so they could both see it on the kitchen table. As it turned out, John Paul had wildly underestimated how much Craig’s workaholic tendencies extended to everything he did in life. He had an entire folder with links, resources, and expense spreadsheets. He had compiled a bullet-pointed list summarizing which preschools had the most tolerant policies and track records. He had collected blog posts from gay parents who had adopted vs. those who used surrogates and created elaborate lists of pros and cons for each option.

“You were serious…” John Paul said. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me about this? Why keep this from me, do it all on your own?”

“You get… excitable. You get stressed,” Craig answered. “I wanted… look, I did all the research, didn’t I? This isn’t the right time for us, not yet.”

“You don’t get to decide that without me,” John Paul said, eyes still sharply searching for a signal.

“Well, what was I supposed to say? You always just want to push forward with things, whether it’s practical or not. You’re emotional, and you don’t think things through. I wanted to sort things out and then start talking to you about it when the time is right. You just… you want this so badly, I don’t want to have to upset you by showing you, everything points to us not being ready for this yet.”

“Remind me, who treats who like a helpless trollop who can’t take care of himself in this relationship?”

Craig paused, too stunned to answer. He regained his composure and said, much more reserved, “I deserved that, I suppose.”

“Right,” John Paul grumbled.

“No, I mean it, you’re right,” Craig said. He turned to John Paul and continued with a hand on his shoulder and eyes locked on his. “You’re a part of this conversation, so it’s important that you get to take part in all of it. Just, please, John, try not to get ahead of yourself. I’d really like to be in a more stable position in my career before we start in on any of this. And it’d be better if you’ve finished your teaching program too, so we’ve got a second income, right?”

Craig’s family didn’t call him the smart one for nothing. Everyone John Paul knew had kids with almost no effort, whether they intended to or not. He legitimately didn’t realize how much more difficult it was for gay couples. Not to mention, more expensive. As it turned out, they absolutely did need to wait until John Paul finished school, because it would take time to save up enough money. Still, it was a productive conversation in the end, because they decided they’d go with surrogacy. Now they had a real plan.

“Sorry about… I shouldn’t have brought up Sarah like that,” John Paul said nervously.

“That’s okay,” Craig answered gently. “I should have trusted you to make the rational decision together with me. It was wrong of me to leave you out of all that.”

John Paul teared up. “I can’t believe you did all that work for me,” he said.

“Not just for you,” Craig said calmly. “I did it for both of us.”

“I love you, Craig, I love you so much.”

There was a pause, just a bit too long for comfort, before Craig answered, “I love you too.”

This time, it was John Paul’s turn to perform. He felt guilty for not trusting his lover’s commitment, so he made sure to check all the boxes for Craig’s favorite sex acts. The fact that Craig hadn’t even gotten cross with him for his doubt made him all the more remorseful, and he tried to express how sorry he felt with his body.

John Paul gave Craig kisses on the neck while he teased his stomach. He picked Craig up and thumped his back against the wall. He carried him to the bedroom and tossed him onto the bed. John Paul yanked his pants off, teased his thighs for a while, then grabbed behind his knee and flipped him over to switch to kneading his ass cheeks. He spread them and rimmed him with his tongue. He slicked up his fingers and inserted them into Craig’s ass, and used the other hand to stroke his cock until he came.

John Paul hardly even heard the yelps of arousal when he was rough, or the sighs of delight when he was gentle. He didn’t need to listen. He knew Craig’s body well enough to activate the correct physiological functions, even when the spark wasn’t there.

Hard as they both tried to stoke the fire, it wasn’t enough. Their flames grew weaker as the midnight chill grew stronger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: It Literally Just Happened- JP tries champagne for the first time


	6. It Literally Just Happened

It took time, but the waiting finally ended. John Paul’s teaching program finished, and around the same time Craig was given a lateral promotion. It wasn’t the immediate upward mobility he was hoping for, but he seemed much more relaxed now that his transfer was imminent. John Paul was elated. Craig must have been excited too, because he booked them a fancy dinner together to celebrate.

John Paul came home to find Craig already preparing for their date. John Paul had looked up the restaurant while he was waiting for his turn to interview, a French place called Chez Charpentier, and it was pricey. That must mean Craig was feeling confident about their finances, meaning they’d be able to start the surrogacy process soon. 

He had been on cloud nine through the whole interview. They were finally going to be a family. It always seemed like their relationship was temporary in some ways, but they were finally going to move forward. After all these years, Craig was finally ready to make a commitment.

Whether the interview went well or not was anyone’s guess. John Paul was too happy to be nervous, although he reminded himself that things still hinged on him successfully landing a job. It would be weird adjusting to the nine-to-five life, after so many years of late nights DJing followed by all-nighters for university. His teenage self would scoff at the notion. He couldn’t put a finger on when he decided he wanted this life.

He knew he didn’t want it when he was with Kieron, that’s why he had gotten cold feet about their engagement. At the time, he didn’t feel like he was ready to transition to domestic life as a working professional and parent. He was only 19 after all. That’s why he had sabotaged it by cheating on his fiancée with Craig, which he still felt bad about. But it worked out in the end. Craig was the one he was always meant to be with. Craig was his soulmate, and now here was the proof that sacrificing all his previous relationships was worth it. He didn’t stay with Craig because of some ‘sunk cost fallacy,’ as his friend Nancy had suggested, no, their love was written in the stars and it was meant to be. That must be why he felt ready to start a family now. No, he was far beyond ready. He was eager. Hungry. _Restless._

John Paul was brought back to reality by Craig questioning him on how the interview went. They were on their way to the restaurant, and he tried his best to recall the details Craig wanted to hear. “To be honest, it’s all a bit of a blur.”

Craig gave him a concerned look and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You were so nervous you blacked out?”

“No, I didn’t black out,” John Paul said. “The details are all muddled together, you know? The way things get when you’re nervous. Just normal nerves though, nothing to worry about.”

“So do you think it went well?” Craig asked.

“I don’t know. I was really excited, I know that, and they say employers like to see enthusiasm from potential candidates. Besides, I just have a good feeling, you know?”

“Well, that’s good,” Craig said. They arrived at the restaurant, and he held the door open for John Paul.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” the hostess greeted. “Party of two?”

“I have a reservation, Craig Dean,” Craig said.

“Excellent, let me show you to your table.” She led them to a table by the window, set with a fresh white tablecloth and adorned with a single fresh cut rose in a crystal vase and a candle in an elegant votive. John Paul was impressed.

They sat down and the anticipation buzzing in John Paul’s head grew stronger. He took a moment to notice Craig’s outfit. He was wearing a deep purple top, one John Paul had never seen before, which meant Craig had dressed specially for this. It was a nice color on him. He looked amazing. The sallow gloom that had haunted his face for so long had finally lifted. For the first time in months, he really seemed happy.

The waitress asked about drinks, and Craig ordered a bottle of nice champagne. John Paul’s heart rate quickened at the sound of that. Something special was happening tonight.

“What’s the occasion?” John Paul asked, trying to sound casual.

“Well, we haven’t had a proper celebration just you and me since you graduated, so I thought it would be nice,” Craig answered casually. “How do you think you’ll like it, working with college students? We were such a rotten lot, I don’t envy our teachers one bit. I still can’t imagine it, you as a teacher.”

“Yeah, it feels strange. I hardly feel like it’s been long since I was in college myself,” John Paul said, trying to stay focused on the thread of this small talk. Craig was doing a great job keeping things low-key, but between the fancy dinner and the nice outfit and the champagne, John Paul’s head was buzzing with anticipation. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but this sure felt like the buildup to a proposal.

Engagement. Marriage. A child. He couldn’t believe these things were finally happening. A real life, a real future with his soul mate. Everything he had ever wanted, and it was all beginning tonight. All the pain and suffering was all worth it for this. This moment when Craig would finally belong to him in every way.

The sommelier arrived and let Craig taste the champagne. He nodded, and she poured them each a glass. There was no ring in the glass, but that would be such a cliché way to do it anyway. After Craig had surprised John Paul with his child-rearing master-budget, John Paul had been reminded to expect the unexpected from him.

“Cheers!” they said, clinking their champagne glasses together. John Paul’s face puckered at the taste.

Craig laughed, “What, didn’t realize champagne was bitter?”

“Well, I’ve never tasted it before, have I?” John Paul said. “Why have you, anyway?”

“My family runs a pub, darling,” Craig answered smugly. “Not sweet like cheap wine, is it?”

“Mmh, I like cheap sweet wine though,” John Paul crooned. “It tastes like our first kiss.”

“You mean the one where Hannah caught us and screamed about it to the whole school and we both got trashed by homophobes for a week afterwards and then gave each other a black eye?” Craig said, addressing the shimmering ice bucket. “Yeah. Good times.”

“Well, it worked out in the end, didn’t it?” John Paul answered, too caught up in his good mood to be irritated that Craig was, yet again, unnecessarily dredging up such unpleasantness. “I can’t believe the waiting’s finally over. We’re finally going to be a proper family.”

Craig’s eyes flickered back and forth between John Paul’s face and the shiny cutlery beside his left elbow. “Wait… John, what did you think… oh, no… you’re misinterpreting…”

The blood plummeted from John Paul’s head so abruptly he thought he might faint. This couldn’t be happening. No, no, no, this was just a misunderstanding. Craig wouldn’t go back on his promise now, he had changed, he was different now, he wouldn’t do this to John Paul all over again. He placed his champagne glass down carefully, worried that he might snap the delicate stem with the tension in his hands. “What do you mean, misinterpreting?”

Craig put his glass down too. Quietly, gently, he answered, “John, I told you. We’re here to celebrate the start of your teaching career. All that… we can talk about all that later.”

Devastated, disoriented, and light-headed, he confronted his lover in a breathless panic. “Craig, you have been promising for months—”

“Well, I didn’t mean _right away,”_ Craig interrupted. “I mean, now’s a good time to start looking at a more serious timeline—”

“You said it yourself, sometimes there’s a waiting list and it can take months before anything real—” 

“That doesn’t mean we should just go barreling ahead without—”

“We’ve already talked about every single possibility under the sun, what more—”

“We’ve got to establish a solid plan, or else—”

“What do you mean we don’t have a plan! You already made the most detailed fucking plan I’ve ever seen in my life!” John Paul bellowed. Belatedly, he realized that his raised voice was earning them some peeved glances from the other diners. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled to the neighboring tables.

The other patrons averted their eyes, but a dead silence hung in the air. A minute that felt like an eternity passed before an oblivious waiter emerged from the kitchen with a sizzling platter for a nearby table. He broke the tension by politely asking his customers if there was anything else he could do for them. The diners followed his lead, and the sounds of forks clattering against plates and hushed chatter slowly returned to the room.

“Look, let’s just try to have a nice evening all right,” Craig said, shoulders stiffened with humiliation. “None of this heavy talk, just the two of us, having a romantic night together. Can we do that?”

“No… no, Craig, I don’t think I can. I’ve been waiting all this time… I thought that’s why we were celebrating… how can I even pretend I’m enjoying myself when I’m fucking heartbroken over here?” John Paul said with a sorrowful tremble. “You promised me.”

Craig leaned forward and ran his hand through the hair on the back of his head. He brought his head back up to meet John Paul’s eyes, bland smile carved into his face. “Okay. You’re right, yeah. Okay, we’ll make an appointment tomorrow morning.”

There was that tic again. John Paul’s eyes tracked Craig’s hand as he rubbed that spot on his head. His golden glow of anticipation from just a few minutes earlier was transformed into a leaden lump of dread. Such cruel alchemy. In a few short months, John Paul would be cursing himself for swallowing down that lump in his throat. They were finally going to start their family together, and it wasn’t right for him to feel so empty inside.

John Paul felt nothing the whole way home. He got what he wanted, they were moving forward with their lives, so why the pangs of agony? It made no sense, so he swallowed down those feelings, but he couldn’t will himself to feel the joy he knew he should feel. So instead he was a starless void. Still, they had reached a significant point in their relationship, so it was important that they connect physically. As long as they had that, they could make it through this.

This was the happiest moment of his life. Everything was perfect.

There was no excuse for the way his own body felt like a cold metal instrument. There was no excuse for how stiff and wooden his lover’s body felt in his hands. He willed himself to cherish this moment. They kissed, his tongue twisting into his lover’s mouth, and he fought the urge to gag at the icy alkaline tang. He held his legs aloft in a practiced motion, as precise as squaring a corner, and a dozen splinters tore at his hands. With all the eroticism of a hammer driving a peg into a hole, he constructed a stock orgasm. They didn’t bother with aftercare, just wallowed in the littering of stray nails and sawdust. The nauseating stench of varnish permeated the air.

John Paul knew Craig wouldn’t break his heart again. What a perfect night this had been. Craig had treated him to a fancy dinner to celebrate the next chapter in their lives. Sure, they fought a little, but then they had sex, and it felt good. It was excitement and anticipation keeping him awake all night. Everything was perfect.

They made an appointment the next morning for a consultation at the fertility clinic they had chosen. They met a few potential surrogates and chose someone who seemed nice. They signed all the paperwork and did their end of the dirty work, mixing their sperm together in a flimsy plastic jar. They went to appointments with the obstetrician and the surrogate. Months passed in a blink.

John Paul felt like a puppeteer operating a marionette. Craig was home even less than before, and even when he was around, he was exhausted. He insisted that it was because his new boss was a tyrant, and begged John Paul not to press the issue. John Paul tried so hard to stay optimistic, to tell himself that Craig was telling the truth, that he was dedicated to this in his own strange way. Yet with every step they took forward, another string was cut, and soon Craig hung listlessly, suspended from a single thread.

John Paul could never seem to find the right moment to talk to his mother about all this. A side effect of dating Craig was that he got plenty of practice hiding his heartbreak. He’d managed to hide the secret affair between them while it was going on under her roof, after all. As long as he stayed out of that ballpark, he could hide his pain. But he couldn’t bring up any of the surrogacy details without letting something slip about the botched non-proposal dinner. So he said nothing.

Craig wasn’t lying about work. His new boss Elaine was much more ambitious than the previous deadbeat, Peter. She was determined to move up in the company, and completely willing to undermine absolutely anyone to get there. Seeing the sheer persistence of Craig’s work she requested him for her department.

There was just one problem. The precedent he had set for himself with his compulsive productivity was unsustainable. Elaine expected him not only to sustain it, but to increase his workload now that he was working for her. The overt harassment went away, but the whispers and stares increased. People perceived him as someone so weak that he needed to hide behind the Devil wearing Prada. They looked at him like a pitiful imp crushed underneath her stilettos. They weren’t entirely wrong. He faxed, filed and copied. He answered phones. He picked up coffee and bagels. All menial tasks well below his level of training. But it was worth it. Once he proved himself, she would let him do more.

He assumed that she knew of his reputation from the water cooler. He figured that she was focused enough on results that she didn’t care about his personal business like everyone else did. He put a lot of pressure on himself to impress the one person who didn’t judge him for who he was or who he loved. He knew people thought he was pathetic, riding on the coattails of a woman, but the opportunity to work for someone like her put him in a better position to further his own career. She got all the shiny new accounts, all the praise from upper management, because she had a reputation and they knew she was the one who would seal the deal. She appreciated Craig’s work ethic, and she was someone whose ambition would take them places. He continued his daily grind of groveling at her feet, long hours, late nights.

There were times when he almost gave in to despair. He had worked so hard to get away from Peter, only to get stuck with Elaine. Was he doomed to a life forever living under the shadow of one tyrant or another? He moved to Dublin to get out from under the boots of his hometown bullies, only to find himself in the exact same position all over again.

Back in Hollyoaks, John Paul had been his knight in shining armor, for a time. When had they lost that? Was it something he did wrong? He had made a lot of mistakes, and he knew that. His feet were always heavy with the shackles of his self-reproach.

Something had to change. Craig sat on the couch, alone in the flat for the time being, mindlessly turning the copy of the sonogram over and over in his hands. He thought about the way his mum and dad used to fight when he was a kid. He couldn’t do that to this baby. Even knowing how much his friend Marilyn hated John Paul, she was the only sensible person he could think of who might have some idea of how to work things out before the child was born. He gave her a call.

“Craig! How nice to hear from you! I take it you’re finished ghosting me, then?” his friend snarked.

“Mar, it’s good to hear your voice. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch lately.”

She sighed, then was silent for a minute. Eventually she spoke again, cautious and tentative. “It’s okay. I realize I might have been a little… harsh… regarding John Paul. I… if you love him, then it’s not my place to judge you for it. You were in a dark place, and all I did was make you feel even worse. I’m… I’m sorry.”

Craig couldn’t answer. He just cried.

“You can come to my place. Right now. It’s not too late, we’re still up. We… Beth moved in with me, you know that, right? Anyway… come over, she’d love to meet you. And… I’m always here for you. No matter what.”

It was hard, but he managed to choke out a feeble “Yeah…”

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you.”

Craig couldn’t decide if he hated himself more for imposing on his friends or ghosting them. He felt like a piece of shit. A selfish prick. But he needed Marilyn. He didn’t know how else he was going to get through this.

He knocked on her door and Beth introduced herself. “Welcome! Ohmygod it’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m so nervous, finally meeting the family! I made spaghetti, I hope you like it, and there’s wine too, do you drink red? Oh! I’m Beth by the way. And you’re Craig, right?”

Craig was knocked off balance by how friendly she was. “I’m… uh… yeah, I’m Craig. Nice to meet you. We’re not… uh… we met at university, we’re not related.”

“Well, sure, not technically, but I know how it can be when your parents are intolerant and whatnot.” Beth talked with her hands a lot. “Well, not from personal experience, I’m so super lucky, my parents are awesome, I’m such a bad daughter moving so far away, poor things, haha. You’re the closest thing she has to family now, you know? And ohmygod I’m totally screwing this up, aaaaah, just ignore everything I’ve said so far!” She threw her head back and flailed her hands around. “I promise I’m not usually such a ‘chatty American’ stereotype, I’m so nervous, ohmygod. I just really want us to get along, I know a lot of people don’t get along with their in-laws all that well, but in my family my mom and my aunties are all besties, and I want us to be that kind of family too, you know?” She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet.

Craig didn’t belong here. Beth was too nice. She wouldn’t be so nice if she knew him. He hadn’t realized Marilyn thought of him as her only family. And he had abandoned her for months. He was the worst sort of scum.

“So…” Beth said, and Craig flinched when he realized how long he had left her hanging. She continued, “Have you had dinner yet? I made spaghetti, and we have wine. There’s also some beer in the fridge, if you prefer.”

Craig couldn’t handle this. “I should go, I shouldn’t be here, I don’t deserve… I’m not… this isn’t…”

“No! Don’t go!” Beth exclaimed, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’m sorry, I came on way too strong, I always do that, shit!” Craig turned away to hide his face, but Beth didn’t let him go. She pulled him into a hug. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re not alone anymore. Whatever you’re driving yourself crazy over, stop it. Mar’s really happy to see you again. So don’t go.”

Marilyn’s voice yelled from inside, “Beth! Your timer’s going off!”

Beth let go of Craig and said, “Come on, hurry up and come inside, before my noodles turn into mush!”

Craig followed Beth inside. He nodded to acknowledge Marilyn but could not meet her eyes. They let Beth do most of the talking throughout dinner. It was quite apparent that Americans really were as obsessed with Ireland as the rumors claimed. Beth had been living in Dublin for almost 3 years and still talked about it like some mystical fantasy realm. Marilyn and Craig couldn’t contain the urge to make sarcastic commentary on her touristy fascination with mundane daily occurrences. With Beth as a buffer, they managed to talk about literally nothing for an entire hour. What peaceful domestic bliss.

Beth finished the last of her wine and stretched her arms. “Well, these dishes aren’t going to wash themselves. I best get started cleaning up. You two,” she said with a glare toward Marilyn, “have a lot to catch up on.” Once her face was out of sight, she smiled to herself. She had always been the family peacemaker back home, and it felt nice to stretch those muscles again.

There was a minute of silence. Marilyn glared at Craig across the dining room table with her arms crossed over her chest. “Well, I’m glad you’re alive,” she said.

Craig shrank away from her. “It’s not like I dropped off the face of the earth, we’ve texted.”

Marilyn didn’t answer.

“Beth is nice. I like her. I’m happy for you. I’m… you seem so happy.”

Marilyn sat up, took a sip of her wine, and rested her elbows on the table. She swirled the wine around in her glass, and, staring at it, said, “Craig, I know you. I know how you always hide things when they’re going wrong. You’re so stubborn. I know… look, John Paul isn’t my favorite person, I don’t like the way he talks to you, and I hate seeing you so… well, I tend to assume, what with the drama and the crying and all, that he’s done something to hurt you, when really…” She sighed deeply and placed her glass down. “You’ve got plenty of other problems, with or without him. I shouldn’t jump to the conclusion… that when you’re all worked up… that it’s _always_ his fault. I mean, it’s _often_ his fault, but… well, everyone makes mistakes, and… I might not like him, but it seems like he’s here to stay.” She looked down and fiddled with a fork Beth had missed when she picked up the dishes. “And… if I did anything to drive a wedge between you two, I’m sorry. If I… look, I didn’t mean to be a bad friend. You love him. So I’ll support that.”

Craig watched, mesmerized, as she twirled the fork around. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one that’s been… you didn’t say anything to… it’s my fault, it’s all my fault, I’m the one that drove the wedge… It’s just, I saw how happy you were, and me, I don’t belong with… happy people… I’m so sour and unpleasant and negative and I’m always dredging up horrible things, I can never let bygones be…” He covered his face with both hands. “I’m going to screw it all up. God, I’m just like my dad. Everyone’s happier without him. Everyone would be happier without me.”

Marilyn extracted his hands from his face and held them. “You’ve never talked about your dad before. Did something happen with him, is that why you’ve been so… out of touch lately?”

“No, you were right, it is about John Paul. Isn’t it always? Don’t… please don’t tell me to leave him, okay? Just… I don’t know what to do, but _that’s_ not an option, okay, so don’t…”

“I know. No judgment, I’ll just listen, I promise,” Marilyn said, stroking her thumb over his palm.

Craig couldn’t figure out where to start now that the spotlight was on him. “I… um… I don’t… I know we talk about me a lot… you probably want to talk about Beth, she’s wonderful, how did you two meet?”

“Craig,” Marilyn said, raising her eyebrows, “You’re not getting out of this. Beth _is_ wonderful, and I’ll gladly talk about her all day, but you’re going to spill the beans first. I expect every detail of this hot mess. C’mon, out with it. What happened this time?”

“Well…” Craig mumbled, “So… a while back, we went out to dinner… and in the middle of it, he… well he got all upset, and pressured me to move forward with things I’m not ready for, and I… well, the way he said it, I could hardly say no.”

Marilyn leaned back and poured herself another glass of wine and topped his off. “Details, Craig, I said _details._ That was exactly zero detail. What restaurant was it? What were you wearing? Who invited who, and why?”

“I… I took him to Chez Charpentier to celebrate because he’s graduated and he’s interviewing for teaching positions. I wore a normal three-piece suit, same as I wear to work every day.”

“Uh huh… and did you by any chance, order champagne?” she asked in monotone.

“Yeah,” he said.

Marilyn slapped him across the face.

He blinked at her incredulously, touching his cheek. She hadn’t hit him very hard, so it didn’t hurt, but he was startled. “What was that for?”

“You say _he_ pressured _you?_ Chez Charpentier? Champagne? No wonder that poor man thought you were going to propose, you imbecile! Way to give him a mixed message! And you just _went along with it?_ Isn’t this _exactly_ how you ended up engaged to Sarah?”

“Engaged? What? No, we didn’t… oh…”

“Wait… what? I thought you said he pressured you to propose.”

“No, _you_ said that. I only said…” Craig’s voice drifted off.

Marilyn waited a while. “Craig? You still here?”

Staring into the void with his eyes blown wide, he said robotically, “We’re not engaged. We’re having a baby.”

“Oh… uh… fuck, I know I promised not to be judgmental, but… is that really a good idea?”

Craig clunked his forehead down onto the table. “No,” he said to the floor, “it’s a terrible idea. We fight all the time just like my mum and dad did when I was a kid, and it’s awful. We can’t bring a baby into this mess. We’ve got to work things out. But I don’t know how anymore. And I’m always at work, my new boss is working me to the bone, and John Paul takes it personally, but it’s not like I can help it, my career is what it is right now. I don’t want to be out until bumfuck in the evening hole-punching a bunch of stupid pie charts and schmoozing with a bunch of drunk thirsty idiots who think I’m a poof. And also, when John Paul was at university, he worked a lot of nights with his DJ job, but now he’s teaching he’s always home by the afternoon. It’s not my fault his schedule changed.”

“Mm hmm. Outside circumstances are the only reason you’re never home when he is. Sounds legit. Not like you’re the sort of person who would ever give someone the run-around to avoid an honest conversation, nope, that would be totally out of character.”

Craig ground his teeth. “All right, Mar. You’ve made your point. I’m sorry I’ve been dodging your calls lately, all right?” She glared at him. “Okay fine,” he said. “You win. I suppose… since that night… he’s been a little… needy… and I’ve not been very nice about it. But I just… he can be so _stifling_ sometimes, but I love him, I really love him so much, and he deserves better, but I don’t know what to do!”

“Hey, it’s all right, don’t worry. There’s no reason to rush things. As much as… well, look, you both love each other, yeah? So you’ll figure something out,” Marilyn said.

Craig lifted his head from the table but didn’t sit up. He looked right into her eyes. “There is a reason to rush things. We’ve only got six months.”

“Wha… how… what?”

“We hired a surrogate.”

“And she’s already pregnant!?!”

“Yeah.”

Marilyn slapped him in the face, and she was not kidding around this time. It _hurt._ She covered her face with both hands and tilted her head back with her face towards the ceiling. “Why would you do this?” she moaned into her hands.

“I don’t know! It just happened!”

“These things don’t just happen! You literally had to hire a stranger!”

“I know, I know it was a mistake!” Craig stood up and paced the room. “God, I’m such a sack of shit. You’re right, he thought I was going to propose. He even said, ‘I’m fucking heartbroken,’ and all I did was… I don’t even remember what I said to him. John Paul… fuck… fuck! I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

Marilyn stood up and followed him. She put her hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you put yourself in this situation and now you need to _grow up_ and make the responsible decision. For the baby. You can’t just keep John Paul in limbo, you’re torturing him and yourself. Either leave him or stay with him. If you’re going to leave, figure out your custody situation. If you’re going to stay, commit to it.”

He turned around and buried his face in his friends’ shoulder. “I love him, Mar. I really love him, I want to make this right, I want to fix it.”

“You will,” she said, stroking his hair. She hoped against hope that her friend would realize the right thing was to break up and put the baby up for adoption. Plenty of stable couples would want a healthy white infant with good prenatal care. But if she told him that, he’d just push her out of his life again. The kid would grow up in the same broken family dynamic as she and Craig had. The cycle would continue, and there was nothing she could do.

They said their goodbyes, and Craig thanked Beth for the spaghetti. They agreed to make plans for a double date once Craig had a chance to talk to John Paul.

The next morning, Craig went to a jewelry shop. The saleswoman was unpleasant, and her perfume was cloying, but fortunately she backed off once she learned he was buying a men’s ring. Craig zeroed in on a nice-looking titanium band with an etched Celtic knot pattern, a striking blue color that reminded him of John Paul’s eyes. She left, but a different salesperson showed up, this time a handsome man with huge overly whitened teeth. He tried to steer Craig to a different ring, and Craig quickly deduced that it was because the one he liked was fairly inexpensive.

“I said I like the blue one, okay? That’s the one I’m buying,” he growled.

“Of course, sir. And what size is your husband?” the salesman asked.

“I don’t know,” Craig said.

The salesman paused, as if expecting Craig to say more.

“Average?”

The man clasped his hands together and said, “Very well then, we’ll guess big, and once you’ve proposed you can come back with your fiancée to exchange it for the proper size. Free size exchanges in the first 30 days with a valid receipt, no refunds.”

“Understood.”

Craig walked away from the shop feeling nauseated. He couldn’t even open the little paper bag. This whole thing felt cursed. Maybe Kieron’s ghost had finally come to exact vengeance.

Alone at the flat, John Paul wondered the same thing.

Six months. The clock was ticking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from hiatus, and it feels so good! 
> 
> For those who've been following along, thank you very much, and for those just joining, welcome to the party! Special thanks to Lillies_Roses, who has been following since the beginning, I'm not sure this would have ever gotten airborne without your kind encouragement.
> 
> Next chapter: You Don't Know How to Express Yourself- Craig tries to propose


	7. You Don't Know How to Express Yourself

Craig kept the ring in his pocket and waited for the right moment. A month blew by, and he missed his chance for a free resize exchange. Another month, and the moment still never came. Every day it pulled at him and sapped his energy, like some unholy creation of a dark lord in a fantasy novel. His humanity shriveling away and transforming into a skeletal wraith. He had every intention of giving more of himself to John Paul, showing his love, but his well had run dry and he had nothing left to give. Marilyn tried to reach out, but every time Craig ended up flaking out because of work. Only four months to go, the sand in the hourglass was running out.

One late night after a dinner function, most people went home to their families. Craig didn’t want to go home, and his boss Elaine had no one to go home to. They were already tipsy, so they stayed at the bar and ordered another round of drinks.

“So, Craig,” Elaine asked, “we never talk about anything except work. Do you have a girlfriend or anything?”

“Do I what?” Craig asked incredulously. He was in that sweet spot of tipsiness where everything was funny. “Wait… you actually don’t know I’m gay?”

“Oh, really?” she said mildly.

Craig burst out laughing. “Are you really serious? You haven’t heard any of the horrible things people say? Everything I do, everything I wear, everything I say, people are always pointing and speculating, ‘Ooh, is that because he’s a fairy? Aah, are all the gays like this?’ And then there’s the creepy ones who are like, ‘You look tired, you’re not sore from last night, are you, hon?’” His mood crashed. Bile rose in his throat. Now that he was saying it out loud, it was not funny anymore. Shit. He shouldn’t be talking about this, especially not with her.

“Can you talk to HR?” she asked.

He fiddled with a cocktail napkin and mumbled, “You know the company policies as well as I do, you know perfectly well they’re deliberately written to be useless so that HR doesn’t have to do fuck-all.”

Elaine leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and stared at him with an intense grimace.

Craig played with the condensation on the outside of his glass and thought about the implications of the fact that she didn’t know anything. It meant she wasn’t deliberately taking advantage of his low position in the social hierarchy. In fact, now that he thought about it, maybe she wasn’t taking advantage of him at all. She worked just as hard as he did, put in just as many long hours. “You’re really that out of the loop, that you’ve never heard anything?”

Elaine looked him straight in the eyes. “Look, I’m telling you this because I appreciate your work ethic and your professionalism. These things people say… ‘microaggressions,’ as the kids are calling them these days… well, I’ve got my own history with all that sort of ‘misconduct.’ That’s why I don’t really talk to people. And I like not being involved, honestly, but the downside is, people say I’m a frigid bitch who can’t collaborate. So I just have to forge my own path by working harder than anyone else.”

Craig was indignant on her behalf. “Well, I for one appreciate that you’re not a part of all that petty nonsense. That’s not collaboration, it’s just… assfuckery. And just because you’re not a rotten gossip doesn’t mean you can’t collaborate in a professional capacity.”

Elaine sighed dramatically and said, “Why are the good ones always gay?”

“Well, I’m actually not, at least not totally,” Craig said, allowing himself to meander back into proper small talk. “I’ve had girlfriends before, and I like having sex with women. I’m still plenty attracted to women, just not as much as I am to my boyfriend. And what do you care anyway? You’ve never expressed an interest in _anyone,_ least of all me.”

It was Elaine’s turn to laugh. “It was a joke, you buffoon. You’re right, I have no interest in a relationship right now. I’m not going to end up as one of those women who gives up her career momentum to go be a mum. Honestly, I’m envious. You’ll never have to worry about balancing your career and family life. It’s a conundrum that no working woman can escape being nagged over day in and day out.”

“Actually, you’re wrong about that,” Craig said darkly. He gave her a brief summary of John Paul and the surrogate mother carrying their child.

Elaine didn’t look up, just kept poking the ice cubes in her glass with the straw. “You seem thrilled about all this,” she said.

“Well, that’s John Paul, he’s always like this, rushing ahead with things,” Craig answered. “I’m not unhappy, it’s all just moving so quickly.”

“You said you’ve been on and off with him since college. That’s got to be like five years now.” She gave him a questioning look.

“Something like that,” he said.

“Well, if you’re not ready after all that time, maybe… I mean, not to intrude, but… maybe you don’t really want this.”

“I do!” Craig snapped. He startled himself with how quickly he jumped on that. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get cross with you. It’s just… John Paul, he… when we were broken up, he got engaged to another man… less than a year after me and him split, he was engaged to someone else. Just about the second I got back, he was back in the sack with me, so nothing to be jealous of there, but… I don’t know. Maybe it just, it’s like he’s trying too hard to slot me into the life he wanted to have with Kieron. But him and Kieron, they wanted all that domestic life together.”

“And you don’t?” Elaine pressed again.

“I don’t… I don’t _not_ want it. I just feel like he wants to barrel ahead with us so he doesn’t have to think about the things he’s lost. I mean, the only reason he got engaged to Kieron in the first place was to distract himself from missing me. Maybe he only wants a baby because…” he drifted off.

After waiting patiently for him to continue, Elaine eventually broke the silence. “You’re still not answering the question. Do you want this?”

Craig tried to voice his denial, but the words caught in his throat. His fingers naturally gravitated toward the little hinged box in his pocket. “It’s getting late. I should call it a night.”

“Okay,” Elaine said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stayed seated and watched him with a curious owlish focus as he gathered his things and left the bar.

Ever the consummate professional, Elaine didn’t bring up that night’s conversation the next morning. It had been an uncomfortable one for him, so he deeply appreciated her choice not to pry. Quite the contrary, the respectful distance she kept made him more willing to trust her. And she seemed to trust him more too, allowing him to use his full talents. With this new bond, they were both able to relax more around each other. This allowed them to collaborate effortlessly together, and their productivity soared.

Of course, part of that was that they both were willing to put in long hours. Elaine didn’t like going home to her empty flat because she found it depressing. Craig would much rather be around her than sitting around at home stressing about how little time he had left and feeling guilty that he just couldn’t seem to pull out that damn ring. Marilyn’s words echoed in his head. _Grow up and do the responsible thing for the baby. You can’t keep John Paul in limbo, you’re torturing him. Either break up with him, or commit to him._

John Paul knew something was wrong. He saw it in Craigs posture, in his avoidance. But it started to change, and he wasn't sure why. He noticed how much more relaxed Craig was when he came home from work. At first, he thought it was a good thing, because Craig was actually able to get through a simple conversation without dredging up any details from their fraught past. Yet the space between them in the bed was sharp and cold. John Paul was in agony. His soulmate was right there in his bed, but the distance between them couldn’t be farther.

John Paul began to grow jealous as it seemed that Craig would prefer working late to spending time at home with him. He could tell that there was someone else who Craig trusted, and the fact that he kept the details so close to his chest only heightened John Paul’s suspicion. But John Paul had already learned his lesson -- asking too many questions about work only pushed Craig further away. And he was so distracted by Craig’s situation that he hardly even noticed his own colleagues. He knew almost nothing about his co-teachers or students, didn’t talk to them during lunch break, didn’t attend happy hours.

Everyone’s eyes were on Elaine and Craig these days. It wasn’t too long before management recognized how well Elaine’s department was doing, and she was given a huge new account to manage. Things started to turn around for both her and Craig in the eyes of their peers as well. Elaine was kinder around Craig, so her harsh reputation grew softer and more open. She gained a lot of respect, and as her right-hand man, he got to share in some of the glory.

Just as things were finally getting better at work, Craig knew that John Paul would eventually meet Elaine. He knew he hadn’t exactly been acting lovestruck lately, and that his lover was prone to jealousy. He knew he had to bring it up eventually, and that he was only delaying the inevitable. But he kept delaying as long as he could, because in his heart he knew that with their relationship hanging by a thread as it was, suspicion over a woman would be more than enough to make it snap.

There was no way he was ever going to propose, not when he knew that it could all come crashing down the second John Paul found out he got along with a pretty female coworker. Only two months left. _Either stay, or leave._ But he couldn’t find the courage to start that conversation. As soon as he did, there was a good chance it would all be over. And he couldn’t bear the thought. He pulled the little box with the ring out of his pocket and clutched it close to his chest. His last hope. 

One month left. _Stay, or leave._ But he couldn’t do it. This couldn’t stop. He couldn’t lose John Paul again.

On one of their many late nights at the pub, Elaine decided to have a more serious conversation with him. “Craig, I… I like working with you a lot, and it’s been so nice to have someone to keep me company, but… look, what we’re working to accomplish, it’s wonderful, and it’s been so good to have you on board with everything trying to build, but… I have my ambitions, and you with your baby on the way… it’s not fair on your husband that you’re never home, you know? I’ve got no one to go home to anyway, so it’s different, and trust me I’ve appreciated having the company. But maybe from now on you should try and focus on your family a bit, yeah?”

“We’re not married,” Craig said blankly.

Elaine was baffled by the non-sequitur. “That’s not relevant to the issue, is it?”

Craig continued to stare at a spot on the bar. Finally, he said, “My mum and dad used to fight when we were kids. They fought all the time. We were better off once dad left, all of us, mum too.”

“You’re worried you and your husb—boyfriend will end up like them?”

“They’ll be better off without me at this point,” Craig said, “but I can’t live without him, I can’t do it. I’ve tried already, I tried so many times to stop loving him. No matter how much pain and suffering I cause, I can’t give him up.”

“Why would you try to stop loving him? Seriously, Craig, how bad is it? Why not try to work things out instead?”

“Every time I do, it only seems to make things worse. He doesn’t trust me, so he doesn’t listen. I’ve stopped trying, so at least we’re not fighting all the time. But we’re miserable. We’d probably stay that way forever, but… it’s not fair on the kid. That’s no way to grow up.”

“Are you saying you’re… going to break up with him?” Elaine had always known her friend wasn’t happy in his personal life, but this was unexpected. As nice as it would be to have him become a bachelor so he could keep up with the rigorous schedule they’d been maintaining, she worried that a major breakup like this could affect him for months.

Craig replied in a hushed, anguished whisper, “No. I know it’s the right thing to do, but… I can’t.”

They finished their drinks in tense silence. Craig thought about it. He’d been too much of a coward to break up with Sarah for John Paul’s sake, and now he was too much of a coward to break up with John Paul for the sake of the baby. He had to do this. As much as he didn’t want to lose John Paul, he had to know, once and for all, if their relationship had enough trust left to keep going.

_One month left. Stay or go._

He told himself that might still be hope. Since their last big fight, John Paul hadn’t once accused him of flirting with someone else or made a point of displaying public affection to ward someone off. That was the day their relationship had hit rock bottom, but maybe there was a glimmer of hope. Maybe hitting that low point was what had finally gotten through to John Paul, maybe he would finally change his ways. He felt tears sting at his eyes at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they still had a chance to make things right.

There was one way to know, once and for all, if things had finally changed. He didn’t want to drag Elaine into this mess, but he didn’t have the strength to do this on his own. Maybe everyone was right about him. He really was just a coward who had to hide behind a woman. “Elaine,” he said, “will you walk me home?”

“Sure,” she said neutrally.

Craig felt like a monster. He was only using Elaine’s pretty face to test John Paul, to see if he would get suspicious. He was turning her into an unwitting pawn in his underhanded game. They paid their tab and walked to his flat in silence. Craig slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers lightly brushing the little box.

This was it. Last chance. _Maybe he’ll finally understand. He’s surprised me before. Maybe this will be the day I propose._ He knew he was deluding himself, but that hope was the only thing keeping him upright, the only force still driving his feet forward.

Craig opened the door to his flat. John Paul was sitting on the couch in the dark. Craig turned back to Elaine to bid her goodnight and thanked her for walking with him.

“Sure,” she said, “have a good night.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, let it linger for a moment, then left.

John Paul said nothing. Craig’s heart beat faster and faster, each moment that passed building the suspense, that maybe, just maybe, John Paul had finally decided to trust him.

“Who was that?” came the inscrutable voice from the darkened room.

“My colleague from work,” Craig said, hoping beyond hope that his lover’s voice would turn tender the next time he spoke.

It didn’t. “Is that who you’ve been spending all these late nights with?” There was no mistaking the tone now. Pure rage.

“Yes,” Craig answered. His blood turned to ice within his veins and the crystals pierced through his heart from the inside.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe she’s _just_ a colleague?” John Paul said slowly.

“Yes,” Craig answered, “I do.”

“You have to _know_ I can’t.”

Barely above a whisper, Craig said, “I guess it’s over, then.”

“What?” John Paul said, standing up.

“I’ll buy you a ticket back to Hollyoaks tomorrow,” Craig said, businesslike, as he finally took his coat off. “I’m giving up my custody, the baby is yours.”

“Wait, Craig…”

“You can stay on the couch for now. Pack yourself a bag tomorrow, if you forget anything, I’ll send it by mail,” Craig said and took his shoes off.

“Wh—hold up, hey! Are we not even going to talk about this?” John Paul finally emerged from the shadows to follow him.

“I should be able to find you an express ticket for tomorrow, maybe the day after at worst.” Craig walked to the kitchen table and put down his briefcase.

“Hey!” John Paul grabbed him by the shoulders. “Don’t I get a say in any of this?”

“No. You don’t,” Craig said, meeting his eyes for the first time. “It’s my flat, and you don’t live here anymore.”

“I don’t understand, Craig… what did I even do wrong?”

“You still don’t trust me.” 

“Is this about your colleague tonight? How could I possibly have known that…” John Paul’s voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide with horror.

“What? How could you have known that falsely accusing me of cheating on you with my colleague would upset me?” Craig said, still as marble, eyes in a deadlock with his former love.

“That’s not what I said! You’re putting words in my mouth!” His hands tightened their grip on Craig’s shoulders.

“It is. You just said not a moment ago, ‘You have to know that I can’t believe you when you say she’s only a colleague.’ What does that statement mean to you?” Craig was immovable as stone.

“Craig…”

Craig brushed John Paul’s hands off his shoulders. “You’re only trying to take it back now because I broke up with you. If I hadn’t, you’d still be hounding me to somehow prove she and I weren’t together.”

“Craig, please…” John Paul’s voice trembled with the shock.

“There’s no future for us. There never can be. Because you’ll never trust me.”

“How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?” John Paul reached out to touch him, and Craig dodged his hand.

“Do you honestly still think we have a chance?” Craig said, creepy, emotionless, detached.

“Of course I do!”

“So where do we go from here?” Craig folded his arms across his chest.

The question pierced through John Paul’s armor, swept the rug from under his feet, pulled the wind from his sails. It was a question that he simply couldn’t answer. It hit him like a ton of bricks. This was really the end. Scorching hot tears burned down his face. “I still love you,” he sobbed, unable to meet Craig’s eyes.

“I love you too,” Craig answered regretfully. He went back to putting his work things away, as if the whole conversation hadn’t happened. He brought a blanket and pillow to the living room and set them down next to John Paul’s body, which was frozen in place on the couch.

It was a long night. In their separate rooms, they both lay awake. John Paul didn’t sleep at all. Craig must not have slept much either, because he left much earlier than necessary for work. John Paul couldn’t muster the will to say goodbye, so he pretended to be asleep on the couch. Once Craig was out the door, John Paul got up and watched him from the window, walking out into the sunrise.

John Paul was wounded by how sudden this had all been. He didn’t think he could face Craig again any time soon, so he packed a bag with the essentials, and phoned a friend to stay with until the next available flight. He left a note on the fridge explaining where he was, then dropped off his duffel at his friend’s place on the way to work. His friend tried to hug him, but he hadn’t processed what was happening enough to even feel grief at the loss. All he felt was shock.

Back home, John Paul received shocked stares from all the villagers. All his nosy neighbors were anxious to know the juicy details of the scandal that had sent him home without Craig. It didn’t matter. After all that, it was almost a relief to be home, with his mum, Nancy, Carmel, Jaqui… away from the man who broke his heart over and over. It was better this way.

As for Craig, he buried his feelings by fastidiously tending to logistical matters. He bought boxes and packed up all of John Paul’s things, and mailed them back to his mother’s house. Now for the part he was dreading: having the necessary conversation with their surrogate mother. He had to take responsibility for this, for the sake of the child. This was the reason everything was happening, after all. This had to be done. He dug through their paperwork to find the contract and looked for the section with the pre-ordained settlement. When he found it, he realized with horror that the settlement was an exact match, to the penny, to the amount saved in his “nest egg” fund. That number must have stuck in his subconscious since the very beginning of the surrogacy. 

There was just one piece left. The baby. John Paul might not want him either; they’d never actually talked about that. Craig thought through all the options and concluded that John Paul’s mother Myra McQueen would make sure he was taken care of, even if John Paul abandoned him too. She was the one who had given his family a place to live when their own home burned down. She was the one he trusted to talk to his own mother, to convince her to accept him. Even without John Paul in his life, Myra would always feel like home to him. He gave the surrogate the address to John Paul’s childhood home.

With all of that out of the way, Craig finally ran out of things to keep himself busy. His friends breathed a collective sigh of relief that he was finished rushing around like a human cyclone.

He woke from insomnia at the crack of dawn and bought a takeaway coffee. He sat on a park bench and pulled the box out of his pocket. For the first time since he’d bought it, he opened it. He looked at the ring and thought about the future that was now gone forever. The sunlight warmed his face. At long last he was released from the storm, and the tears finally fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hurt my heart to write this. 
> 
> Next up, years and years of mutual pining!  
> Chapter 8: After I Was Done- Craig tries to get on with his life  
> Chapter 9: It Was the Best- JP tries to get on with his life


	8. After I Was Done

Dr. Byrne prepared to welcome her newest client. Craig Dean, 24 years old, had just broken up with his boyfriend of 5 years and given up custody of their newborn child. He wanted counseling because he “Couldn’t let him go, last time we broke up, I chased after him, and I ruined his life all over again, and I can’t do that to him again, and I can’t do that to the baby, but I can’t let him go and I need help, please.”

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she said.

A slender young man with guarded posture and clenched fists entered her office. “How can you make yourself stop loving someone?” he asked.

Dr. Byrne was taken aback. It usually took some time to build trust before a new client would open up, but this one dove headfirst straight into the deep end. “That’s a loaded question. Why do you feel that you need to?”

“Oh… no, that’s not… ‘How can you make yourself stop loving someone,’ that’s what I asked him the first time we slept together. I knew, even then, all I could do was hurt him, but I was too weak to resist. Five years, and all I’ve ever done is hurt him, just like I knew I would, and I’m so irresponsible, I brought a baby into this mess, and can’t do it a third time, I can’t ruin his life a third time, I can’t ruin the baby’s life and that’s all I’ll do, I’m such a mess. They’re so much better off without me.”

“Alright, let’s slow down a little here,” Dr. Byrne said gently. She gestured toward the squishy leather chair facing her. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Craig sat down, took a deep breath, and explained himself more calmly. His desperation to have John Paul back was like an addiction, as it always had been. The ring in his bedside drawer called to him, and he pulled it out every night to stare at it. He needed to sort his head out, otherwise he’d be back in Hollyoaks in a few months to chase after his lost love all over again. He couldn’t live without him, but he had to figure out how, otherwise the baby would grow up having to endure his parents’ constant deception and betrayals, just like he had from Frankie and Johnno.

The baby would have had a horrible childhood if John Paul and Craig had stayed together. Craig had read a lot about the effect of chronic stress on a developing brain. The way he and John Paul were, untethered to anything, even each other, the child would have had a bleak start to life. Back in Hollyoaks, John Paul had support from his mother Myra, his sisters, and his friends. He wasn’t close to anyone in Dublin besides Craig, and Craig wasn’t very close to anyone besides John Paul.

Craig realized with the help of his therapist that was at the root of their problem. Neither of them had much of an outside support network in Dublin, so they had developed an unhealthy codependency. All those years, they lived in a prison of their own making. Craig was initially too depressed to reach out to any of his friends, but after a few months he finally allowed Marilyn to drag him out to a club they used to frequent when they were students. Under the flashing lights and the pounding music, he allowed himself to be pulled out on the dance floor. And he danced. For the first time since the breakup, he felt alive.

He still felt that supernatural pull towards his former lover. The blue titanium ring in his bedside drawer continued to pull at his consciousness every night when he tried to fall asleep. His therapist told him to start by telling her about the start of their relationship, to really think about why he could not seem to get over it.

The first day they met, John Paul had pulled the fire alarm to rescue Craig from a school bully named Sonny Valentine. Other boys generally considered Craig pathetic and dorky, so getting that kind of attention from the effortlessly cool DJ was intoxicating. He talked about all the horrible lies and manipulations he had put his ex-fiancée Sarah Barnes through, how every time he tried to turn away, he couldn’t resist the touch of his skin. He talked about their year apart and how he was never able to get John Paul out of his head.

At first, most of his therapy sessions revolved around John Paul, but the more he talked about how everything had gone down with his engagement to Sarah and his issues with Sonny, the more he started to realize his own issues. People had always called him a coward who hid behind other people and let them fight his battles for him, and they were right. He never took agency for handling his own issues. He never stood up to Sonny, he just let John Paul do it for him. He never had the guts to break up with Sarah, he let John Paul do it. He never stood up to his mother, he let Myra do it. He never stood up to John Paul, he let his university friends do it. He never stood up to his colleagues, he let Elaine do it. That’s why he was always a victim, always a target. Without his protector of the day, he was a helpless wimp. And as long as he stayed a helpless victim, there would always be another bully.

No. It was worse than that. His own behavior had contributed to John Paul becoming so controlling to begin with. His dependency. John Paul hadn’t been that kind of person when they met. His behavior had evolved in response to Craig’s passiveness, his evasiveness, his manipulations. Craig had to change himself, or he would always be a victim. And standing up to John Paul for the baby’s sake was the first step, the first victory.

With this newfound determination for self-improvement, he started taking more initiative in work matters. He developed loyal working relationships with many of their clients, and even brought in a few new ones. He and Elaine both grew increasingly irritated with the short-sightedness and toxic culture of their upper management. A year passed quickly, and Elaine finally expressed a more concrete interest in starting her own company and offered Craig a position as her first employee. He declined that offer but countered that he would love to be her equal partner in the endeavor. He explained that their working relationship was a partnership, and he wasn’t willing to keep playing second fiddle. She not only agreed but was quite pleased that he was finally advocating for himself. _That_ was the sort of partner she wanted to work with. And so, they started working to found their own private firm.

He also decided that he’d try to get back into shape. All those years of darkness and depression had left his body thin, weak, and lethargic. Now that he was prepared for a lifetime of bachelorhood, he might as well invest his extra cash in self-care not only in therapy but in a personal trainer as well. The trainer he ended up with was a flamboyant redhead named Roan, who had no fear at all prancing around and playing into the stereotype. Any attempts at queer-bashing rolled right off him, since he was so unapologetic, so eager to jump into the sack with anything that moved, and frankly too much of a narcissist to be brought down by anything.

He was the sort of person Craig would have been deeply upset by a few years prior. His therapist asked him to dig deep into why those things upset him so much, when they had nothing to do with him. He obviously had some issues related to flamboyancy in men. Shortly after his relationship with John Paul had become public knowledge, he had a vivid hallucination of John Paul flouncing around with a pair of silk boxers and taunting him, asking, “Do they suit me?” in a stereotypically gay affect.

Upon discovering his relationship, his mother had gone into complete denial. “No, our Craig can’t be gay,” she said. “He likes football.”

That opened yet another can of worms. Craig had always been a sensitive and gentle kid, and a bit of a momma’s boy. Thinking back on it, she had spent his whole life giving him “tough love” and encouraging him to do things that resulted in fist fights. When he was a small kid, his older sister Steph had been his best friend in the whole world, and he loved playing dolls with her and dressing up in frilly hats and gloves and having tea parties. His mother strongly disapproved of this behavior, all but forcing his older brother Jake to take him out to play football instead. That didn’t stop the tea parties though, so she had lost her temper and told him, “Stop engaging in such faggish behavior. You’re a young lad, and I expect you to start acting like one.” She had conditioned him since childhood to believe that liking girly things made him weak, made him pathetic, made him less of a man.

His new acquaintance Roan was gradually driving a wedge between those associations. One day after a workout session they decided to grab coffee together afterwards, and Craig confessed some of his internalized phobias around how being small and somewhat feminine made him weak. In an uncharacteristically thoughtful act of solidarity, Roan declared, “I’m the girly one in this relationship!”

Roan arrived at their next training appointment in a sequined periwinkle blue leotard and sparkly eyeshadow. The gym rats sneered at him, but he proceeded to out-class them in every weightlifting category while bellowing, “Oh look at this! I’ve got more feminine wiles than you ever will, and last I checked I’m pretty goddamn strong! Oh yeah! Check me out!” Seeing that Craig’s eyes were still flickering fearfully toward the other patrons, he softened his tone. “Hey, everything’s okay, see? Look at me.”

“I doubt it’s possible to look anywhere else with you in that getup,” Craig giggled. He knew he should be humiliated, but he wasn’t. It terrified him, right to his core, threw him off balance, to be so very far outside his comfort zone. And it was _exhilarating._

“Yeah, let them stare! They’ll just never understand how a man like me manages twice as many gorgeous women as they can ever hope for! Not to mention all the gorgeous men, they’re too scared to even try for! They’ll never be able to get a body like this! Oh yeeeeeeah!”

Craig laughed so hard his ribs hurt. He had never felt so at ease with himself, so overjoyed to see someone so brazenly putting all his greatest fears on display. Roan was laying his inner demons bare and making fools of them, exorcising the wicked hold they’d had over him for his entire life. Tears of joy, release, and freedom spilled from his eyes.

He'd never been able to take that leap on his own. A lifetime of repression had made sure of that. Years ago, John Paul finally grew frustrated with him and set him up, forcing him out of the closet, pushing him off the precipice. This was different. Roan took his hand and jumped together with him. And it worked. This time, he learned to fly.

After that, Craig’s easy friendship with Roan grew. On occasion, they went to salsa clubs together. Other times, they’d go to a performance or dinner. Craig rolled his eyes when the man flirted with everyone in sight. Roan steadfastly insisted that his primary reason for spending time with Craig was that he was older and made more money. “I’ve always wanted a sugar daddy,” he declared.

“And _I’m_ the closest thing you could find?” Craig asked, amused. “I don’t exactly fit the description.”

“Your personality fits perfectly,” Roan said. “Besides, if we’re going by physical appearance, minus the beard, that would make you a twink, and I think I know how you’d feel about that one.”

“Well, that settles it,” Craig answered with jovial sarcasm. “I’m embracing my inner sugar daddy.”

“I knew it! Oh hey, do you mind if we swing by my place quick before dinner?”

“Sure, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Not if you let my mum get talking, she’ll rope you in all night long.”

“All right, I’ll try not to get roped in,” Craig promised.

He didn’t keep his promise. Roan’s mother was excited to meet him, and she wanted to make them tea. She had only just gotten off work, so everything was messy, but she had food in the slow cooker, and she assured them there was more than enough for an unexpected guest. Roan whined but couldn’t tear Craig away from the conversation, so they spent the evening there. After dinner, he got bored with the “mum talk” and went upstairs to play video games in his room.

Craig and Roan’s mother drifted into deep conversation about what it was like to have a son like Roan who had such a flashy way about him. There had been hardships and harsh prejudice, but she fought tooth and nail so that Roan could grow up comfortable with himself, sheltered from all the hate. When she finished her story, Craig thanked her with tears shining in his eyes for all the sacrificed she had made for her son.

They had only just met, but there was such a connection because of their shared experiences; she was in every way the mother he wished he had. The mother he _deserved_ to have. She laughed. For all her trouble, Roan didn’t appreciate it. He was a self-absorbed young fellow who never had time for his mother. Craig told her how lucky he was to be _able_ to take her for granted. And he assured her that he’d grow out of it in a few years.

Roan decided to come downstairs but paused when he heard what they were talking about. He sat down on the stairs and listened.

The second anniversary of his separation from John Paul passed uneventfully. He kicked the accursed drawer he never opened. At least this year he managed to keep it closed. That was progress.

One night, Craig got a call from his friend Marilyn. She was frantic, too frantic to even talk. He told Elaine what was happening, and he left the office promptly at closing time.

When he arrived at his friend’s flat, the normally unflappable Marilyn was still a complete mess. Her girlfriend Beth explained that Marilyn’s mother had just been diagnosed with a fatal neurological disorder and had less than a year to live. Marilyn hadn’t spoken to her mother in years. Beth asked Craig if he’d be willing to dog-sit and look after the flat while they were gone, and of course he said yes.

Things were complicated for a while. One of the symptoms of her mother’s disease was dementia, so half the time she didn’t know who Marilyn was, or that she even had a daughter. According to Beth, it was even worse when she was lucid, because that often meant she remembered disowning Marilyn. Beth eventually confessed to Craig that after these events, Marilyn would become distant, and even somewhat resentful.

During one of their many hand-offs for the keys to their flat, Craig happened to walk in on an argument. Beth felt that Marilyn needed to be more forgiving of her mother, since she was dying after all.

“That bitch hasn’t changed one bit! She’d still send me to conversion therapy if she got the chance!” Marilyn shrieked.

“I know, Mar, but this might be your last chance to say goodbye,” Beth said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Marilyn slapped her hand away and glowered, “You don’t understand at all, do you? Look, not every family’s so perfect and apple pie like yours, okay, some of us have _suffered_ at the hands of our families, and you have no right to judge me!” She tried to run from the flat.

Craig was in the doorway, so he blocked her from leaving.

“Get out of my way!” she yelled.

A part of him wanted to flee, to back down. Every fiber of his being wanted to shrink away, to let her run. But she and Beth had been his only friends in his darkest hour, and he wasn’t going to stand by while they repeated his mistakes. “No,” he said firmly, and braced his hands on the door frame.

She tried to shove him out of the way, but he stood his ground. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What the hell are _you_ doing? Beth’s only trying to help, she hasn’t done anything wrong by having a nice family,” Craig said.

Marilyn took a step back. “Craig, _you_ are the last person on earth I’d ever take relationship advice from.”

“Exactly!” Craig said, taking her hands. “Take it from someone who _made_ the mistake that you’re about to make… don’t let this ruin your relationship. Don’t… look, your mum, she got into your head, wanted to make you doubt yourself, told you that you’re worthless, and you need to change. I know all that. _I know._ But if you take that to heart, if you sabotage your own life because of the things she said about you, then _she wins._ And it’s not… trust me, that’s not something… don’t… don’t lose her…” He tilted his head back and took a deep breath to clear the lump in his throat, then looked at her again. “You’re better than that, Mar. You’re so much stronger than me. And I know you won’t do what I did.”

Marilyn nodded silently and let him pull her into a hug.

Craig took Peanut and Rocky out for a walk to give Beth and Marilyn a chance to talk. When he got back, they thanked him for looking after the flat, and Marilyn thanked him for talking sense into her.

This time, their trip ended a few days earlier than expected. Beth was beyond exhausted, but Marilyn was wired, so Craig stayed up late with her.

Marilyn paced in circles around the couch. “It’s over. She’s dead.”

Craig and Peanut followed her with their eyes from the couch where they were snuggled. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She halted her pacing and gave him a haunted stare. “I never had the chance to forgive her. No… that’s wrong… I had the chance, I had a million chances. But I couldn’t do it.”

Craig felt tears stream down his face. He didn’t even try to stop them. “Mar, she didn’t deserve your forgiveness. God, when I first met you… the things she did to you… you had to be so strong, fight so hard, just to _survive,_ after the way she treated you…” He huddled closer to Peanut’s comforting warmth, shivering even though the night was hot and muggy. “She’s lucky you even came to visit her. She didn’t even deserve that.”

Peanut whimpered up at her, and she relented and joined them on the couch. Cuddled in Craig’s lap with her face buried in the dog’s golden fur, she said, “I know she didn’t. I still regret it though. It was my only chance… she’s gone now… and I didn’t… I couldn’t…” She trailed off and said nothing more. She cried softly and Craig and the confused puppy did their best to comfort her.

Craig told his therapist about everything that had happened with Marilyn’s mother, and how much she regretted that she had missed her chance to say goodbye. After a few conversations with her, he realized he did want to extend the olive branch to his own mother, and at least give her the chance to make things right. 

He wasn’t able to take that leap on his own though. He tried, he really did, but he always ended up staring at his phone for hours without calling. Again, Roan was the one to save him from himself. After nearly three years of close friendship, Roan sometimes seemed to read his mind. One day as they were leaving the gym, he suddenly went silent in the middle of a conversation.

“Roan? Hello?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking,” Roan said.

“You? Lost in deep thoughts? What could have possibly brought this on?” Craig joked.

Roan stopped walking and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not shallow, you know.”

“Aren’t you a little though?” Craig said, a little uneasy that this was turning away from their usual playful banter. “It’s not a bad thing, it means you’re fun to be around.”

Roan hid his face in the shadow cast by the retaining wall. “I overheard you talking to my mum, the night you first met her. I feel bad for the way I treated her, before, and I don’t take her for granted any more. It hurt like a bitch when I first heard it, but I’m glad you said something. Because it made me change for the better.”

Craig was devastated that his words had hurt someone. “I… oh… I’m so sorry you heard… I didn’t mean for…” Craig paused for a minute to replay Roan’s words in his head. _I’m glad you said something, it made me change for the better._ “Oh… you said… well, in that case, thank you, I guess.”

Roan chuckled and wrapped his arms around Craig’s torso to pull him against his chest as a little spoon. “You always jump to the worst possible conclusion, do you know that? You have this magical selective hearing where you only notice the part with maximum shock value.”

Craig grumbled an incoherent non-answer but made no effort to break free from his grasp.

Roan rested his chin on Craig’s shoulder and said softly, “Hey, I know, after all that went down with your friend’s mother, I know you’re looking to make amends with yours. And I just want you to know… if things go south with her, I’m here for you, okay? Mum totally wants to adopt you anyway, she thinks you’re a right gentleman.”

Craig didn’t answer but wove his fingers in with Roan’s.

“It’s okay to ask for help. It doesn’t make you weak. You have friends who care about you, okay?”

Craig nodded and tried to angle his face so that his tears wouldn’t drip onto Roan’s arm.

That night, he finally called his mother. Marilyn was right, he needed to make his peace with her. When he first left Hollyoaks, he had been so worried that he wouldn’t be able to come home again. But now that he was out in the world, it was his own inhibitions that were keeping him away, not his family’s prejudices. With the support from his friends, he finally felt safe enough to try to bury the hatchet, even if there was a chance this would only reopen old wounds.

“Osbourne residence, this is Frankie speaking.”

“Mum, hi… it’s me…”

“Craig? Oh, love, it’s wonderful to hear from you!”

“Yeah…”

“What are you doing calling on a landline though? I almost hung up on you, thinking it was a telemarketer!”

“Mum… last time we spoke… you didn’t have a mobile yet…”

“Oh, yes, well, of course,” she said. “Well, you should call on mobile next time, who still uses these old things? The times have changed, haven’t they?”

Craig didn’t answer.

“Your Matthew, he’s a beautiful kid.”

“He’s not mine anymore, mum. I gave him up. But I’m glad he’s with John Paul, and I’m glad he’s happy and healthy.”

“Oh, Craig, what were you thinking, giving all that up, I know how much you cared for John Paul. And can you believe it, I was the last to hear about it? Do you know how humiliating that was for me, to have to hear it from _Darren_ of all people that my son had broken up with his boyfriend? And had a son too?”

Craig didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry, love, I know you were heartbroken, but I wish you had called sooner. What did I do wrong, as a mother, to warrant such neglect?”

It took a while before Craig could answer. “I was worried… you’d say, ‘I told you so,’ and… you’d want me to find a girl… the last time John Paul and I broke up… all you wanted was for me to stop being gay already… and I couldn’t…”

“Oh, Craig sweetheart, of course not. It’s my job as a mother to love you in spite of your faults, yeah? You’re my son, and I love you, even if you did choose that John Paul when you could’ve had Sarah. Even if you screwed up with John Paul too after putting us through all that, I still love you.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I can’t believe you waited so long to call over something so silly.”

Craig didn’t answer.

“Well, now that that’s settled, don’t be a stranger, all right? I’ve got to run, but promise you’ll call me again, all right?”

“Okay. Bye, mum.”

“Goodbye, love.”

She forgot to give him her mobile number.

Craig told his therapist about his relationships with John Paul’s mother Myra, Roan’s mother, and his own mother. He told her about how meeting his friends’ mums and connecting with their tolerant openness helped him so much to accept that the way his own mother tried to suppress his nature was wrong. That her love should have been unconditional, and that if it had been, he wouldn’t have grown up with so much self-hatred. He was so confused by how good it felt to hear her voice again, despite everything that had happened between them. Why did it feel good?

So much talk of parental trauma brought his therapy sessions full circle. Why exactly did he think he was unworthy to be Matthew’s father? Why was _that_ the straw that broke the camel’s back?

Maybe it was because he had subconsciously cast himself as his father. Maybe because his stepfather Jack had given him more love and understanding than both his birth parents put together, he hoped that John Paul would find a stepfather for Matthew who was like Jack. Maybe he didn’t think any of that at all, maybe he simply wasn’t ready for parenthood yet. Maybe he made the right decision, maybe he stood by his choice. Maybe this wasn’t something that needed to be therapized out of him.

Life went on. Day by day, he and Elaine made more progress toward breaking free from their stagnant career positions, toward making their dream of Collins-Dean Enterprises a reality. Each session with Roan he felt stronger and more powerful, and every time they spent idle time together, he grew more comfortable and accepting of himself. A part of him still yearned for John Paul, but he found peace despite the constant ache from the loss.

No matter how much progress he made toward facing down his internal prejudices, external prejudices continued to play a part in his life story. Roan was let go from his personal trainer job, because his employer claimed that he wasn’t bringing in enough clients. He commented, “Look, I’m not a bigot, what you do on your own time is your business, but… what were you thinking, dragging that sort of thing into your workplace? We’ve got to be professional, man.” Craig was furious on Roan’s behalf and threatened to bring legal action against the offending gym owner. His friend Beth was a law student, and she explained gently that they unfortunately didn’t really have a case. Roan’s terms of employment did specify that trainers were expected to play a sales role. The employer had no legal responsibility for “clients’ individual preferences.”

Of all people to bring a solution to the table, Elaine was the very last person Craig expected. She noted that queer folks often felt unwelcome in mainstream gyms due to so-called “locker room concerns,” and felt that it might present a business opportunity for them. Craig was surprised by this suggestion, as gyms were notorious for failure to turn a profit, even if theirs would fill an unoccupied market niche. He thought he knew his business partner pretty well after all these years, but everyone had their hidden depths.

“I actually identify as asexual,” Elaine said, absent-mindedly folding a napkin into smaller and smaller triangles. “I used to be more open about it, but when I was at university there was a boy who… didn’t understand it and apparently took offense at the notion. He… he scared me a lot, even threatened me at times. He didn’t act on it, but…” She choked up.

Craig handed her a fresh napkin to mangle.

She smiled, took a deep breath, and continued. “I went to a support group, eventually, and met a transgender woman who used to be in the army, before she transitioned. Naomi. She taught me self-defense. Not that I’ve ever needed it, but it gives me peace of mind, knowing I can. It’s… I’d like to give her an opportunity to work as a self-defense coach. She’s been working as a line cook, because… sometimes people are weird about her touching them. It’s not fair, because she’s an excellent coach. And us queer folks are way more likely to get attacked, so it’s important that we have a place where we, people like us, can learn to defend ourselves. I’ve… we’ve been so lucky, you and me, becoming as successful as we have. Even if it isn’t profitable… I want to give back.” She looked Craig dead in the eyes and said, “I want to do this.”

Craig felt a grin split his face almost in half. He gave her a flying tackle hug, and declared exuberantly, “I do too!” Elaine wasn’t often open to physical affection, and Craig wasn’t often affectionate, but this was a special occasion.

No one ever said private entrepreneurship was easy. Taking on this new venture in addition to the work they did for their existing clients at Collins-Dean Enterprises had them busier than ever before. They knew this one wasn’t likely to be profitable anyway, so they set it up as a not-for-profit. Beth graduated from law school and decided to help out with the project pro bono to help build her reputation. Craig was initially nervous that Roan would upset Naomi with his sheltered, entitled attitude. It seemed his fears were unfounded, though, as the two became bosom buddies within a week.

Roan and Naomi were beyond thrilled at the prospect of an opportunity to work as trainers again, as well as having employers who were on their side for once. The two of them were highly active in the LGBTQIA+ community and they volunteered their time and rallied their friends to help with the word-of-mouth angle of the marketing campaign. They went with “Hollaback Gym” for the name, and Craig felt like an old fart when he had to explain to Roan who Gwen Stefani was.

After over a year of hard work, the day finally came for the ribbon cutting. They foolishly gave Roan the task of giving the speech. Wielding the oversized prop scissors, he “knighted” Elaine as Sir Guardian Angel and Craig as Sir Sugar Daddy, which received much laughter and applause. The proud new business owners cut the ribbon together and everyone cheered. Roan, overcome with emotion and pumped up on adrenaline, wrapped his hands gently around Craig’s hips, pulled him in and kissed him full on the mouth, and the small crowd gave a soft “Awwwww!” They had shared playful platonic kisses in the past, but never in front of anyone before. Surrounded by such a supportive community, Craig didn’t mind the spotlight one bit. He threw his arms around his friend’s neck and kissed him back, sharing the excitement of the moment.

He told his therapist about the grand opening. She told him he must be very proud of himself. He must finally be ready to move on. Craig admitted melancholically that, no, he didn’t think his heart would ever fully let go. Every time he tried to start a relationship it fell apart because it was obvious to all his potential partners that he was still in love with someone else. But with all the success and happiness and friendship that he had found, he was okay, and he accepted the loneliness that Matthew and John Paul left behind.

Dr. Byrne had been taught to phrase everything as a question. Try to let the client guide the conversation. Sure, she would nudge him in a more productive direction here and there, but this client had always been good about knowing what he needed to talk about without much prodding. Just this once, though, she broke that rule. “Craig,” she said firmly, “he doesn’t own your heart.”

Craig answered in a small, trembling voice, “Yes. He does.”

What could she even say to that? It had been almost five years since she first met him, and despite all his progress he still hadn’t achieved the one thing he truly wanted. _‘How can you make yourself stop loving someone…’_ _poor thing,_ she thought. _He’s a prisoner to this lifetime of tortured romance._

Craig went home, and for the first time in years, opened the drawer. There it was, haunted as ever, the only item in that drawer he never touched. The little box with a blue titanium ring inside. He didn’t touch it. He closed the drawer again. He would never be free from its icy binding.


	9. It Was the Best

John Paul felt that he took the breakup surprisingly well. Far from heartbroken, he was _furious._ How could Craig do this to him? How could he throw away their future for nothing? The incident with his coworker was such a minor thing, compared to what they’d dealt with in the past, so how was _that_ suddenly too much?

Then he saw Frankie Osbourne. Craig’s mother. And she had no idea that they had broken up. Craig hadn’t told her anything. She didn’t even know about the baby.

John Paul went home to his loving mother and sisters. “Oh, John Paul, love, how are you doing?” Carmel asked. Just this once, he let her coddle him. She had a collection of chick flicks, wine, chocolate, and ice cream all set up so he could spend the evening moping with her. Myra came home during the movie and silently stepped behind the couch to massage his shoulders. How could he ever get through this without his kind and loving family? Craig was completely alone; was he okay? 

Consumed by envy and wrath, John Paul had torn apart the person he loved most in the world. There was no going back. He would never have the chance to make things right. He turned their time together over and over in his mind. That little nonverbal tic Craig had of casting his head forward while running his fingers through his hair, the gesture John Paul had always interpreted as a tell for when he was lying, he now realized was something Craig did when he felt trapped. John Paul had always known the power he held over his emotionally broken friend. And yet, when given the chance, he had driven him into a corner and forced him out of the closet before he was ready. He was so lucky to get a second chance, and again he abused the sway he held to force Craig into a future he didn’t want.

Then the baby arrived on his doorstep. He panicked. He ran to his friend Nancy’s house, and asked her what to do.

She calmed him down by making him take deep breaths. “You need to call Craig and get this sorted out, okay? You two brought a child into this world, you have a responsibility here.”

He called, and scolded Craig for giving his address to the surrogate. “I can’t take care of a baby! What were you thinking?” John Paul yelled over the phone. Craig hung up on him, and he leaned against the counter and threw his arms up in frustration.

Nancy had no sympathy at all for his situation. She folded her arms across her chest. “Craig was always a flaky bastard. After what he did to Sarah… What, you didn’t expect him to change overnight, did you? Of course he would do something like this.” Seeing John Paul hyperventilating, she halted her attack, for the moment. She took his arm and cuddled up against his side. “Look, he’s always been like this, yeah? You’re better off without him. But someone’s got to take responsibility for the baby, and I certainly don’t trust him to do it.”

He stayed and talked to Nancy about what it was like taking care of a child mostly on her own. After all, she had been looking after Charlie for years. By the time they finished talking, he felt much better about taking on the role of a single dad.

John Paul returned home to find Carmel holding the baby. His mother and sisters were all very curious how a baby had ended up on their doorstep. Jacqui was about to call social services, but John Paul stopped her.

“Don’t!” he yelled, startling even himself. His mother and sisters all stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “I… the baby’s mine. Mine and Craig’s. We found a surrogate. When we broke up… I honestly was so wrapped up in… us… our problems… I didn’t… I didn’t even think about… God, I’m a horrible person…” He choked on a sob.

“That’s right you are!” Jaqui said.

“How could you do this?” Carmel moaned.

“Tch, and they say _I’m_ a slag,” Mercedes quipped.

“That’s enough, you’re not helping!” Their mother bellowed. “Out! Get out, the lot of you!”

The sisters all fumbled up the stairs to their bedroom, fussing and fighting the whole way. Carmel handed the baby to John Paul.

“Careful, love, make sure you support his neck,” Myra said. “Guess I’m a gran now, eh?”

John Paul spoke through his tears. “Mum, how can you ever forgive me?”

Myra led him to sit on the couch. “Made the same mistake when I was young, didn’t I?” she said gently, stroking the baby’s hair. “You’re making the right decision, keeping him. Don’t need to tell you that, though. Niall… I wonder what he would’ve been like if I’d kept him…”

“Mum, that’s not your fault! Most kids in foster care don’t track down their birth mothers and become serial killers!” Myra’s self-loathing made John Paul forget his own for a moment.

Myra chuckled grimly. They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Your Craig, you know, he always had his knickers in a bunch worrying he’d end up like his dad… Look what happened now. He abandoned his family, just like his dad. And you, you’re going to be a loving single parent, just like your mum.” She gave John Paul a kiss on the cheek. “And this handsome fella will grow up to be a sweet beautiful boy, just like you.”

John Paul looked into the baby’s eyes. “Matthew, his name is Matthew. Matthew, this is your gran.”

Matthew was the only good thing to come out of this mess. He held the baby in his arms, vowing to give him all the love and care that he should have given his father. He had so many regrets about the way it ended with Craig. He vowed never to coerce his child into any decision he didn’t want, and vowed to trust him unconditionally, no matter what.

At first, he involved Craig’s mother Frankie in Matthew’s life. He introduced the child as her grandson, even though Craig was no longer his father. But one day she was babysitting Nancy’s children, Charlie and Oscar, and she put their lives in danger. After that, she put Nancy through hell with gaslighting and legal proceedings, but lost the case and Nancy regained her custody. Nancy was struggling with addiction, sure, but she would never put her own children in danger like Frankie claimed.

It was unbelievable and unforgivable. And she was the _sane_ adult in Craig’s life growing up; no wonder he was so erratic. A part of John Paul was still angry at Craig, but now that he understood the sheer sociopathy of Frankie Osbourne, he mostly just felt pity and guilt. With time, he came to tolerate Frankie again, but was very cautious with the amount of time he allowed her alone with Matthew. He didn’t need his son ending up like Frankie’s children. 

John Paul made himself a paragon of virtue. He became a pillar of stability as a teacher, and the community came to depend on his steadfast leadership. It wasn’t always smooth sailing. Many of his students were involved in a cross-county lines drug operation. He was sexually harassed and assaulted by a student and went to jail himself for attacking the student. Not only that, but he and Nancy had a falling out because he didn’t report the attack sooner.

But how could he? He’d never felt so vulnerable in his life. All rational decision-making was drowned out by fear and self-doubt. Thank goodness Myra was around to help look after Matthew during that time, because he didn’t trust himself to do anything right. It took every bit of strength just for him to finally stand up and testify against his attacker. Now that he understood how it felt to be a victim, he couldn’t believe he had been so insensitive towards Craig when he was harassed at work. 

He had his fair share of flings. He even fell in love again, this time with someone far more damaged than Craig. Ste Hay was an addict, a former victim of domestic abuse, and a former domestic abuser to his ex-girlfriend. He had children when he was young, and their mother had fled town with them in tow. In some ways, he was the perfect partner for John Paul. He gave Ste all the care he wished he had given Craig, even fell in love with him for a while and married him.

There were many times that Ste tested the limits of his patience. The cheating was one thing, but the drugs were another. Every time he fell off the wagon, John Paul would stay at his mother’s house until he sobered up. He didn’t want Matthew to be exposed to that. John Paul and Carmel would sit in the living room building block towers for Matthew to knock over, and gossip about their love lives.

“Well just because someone drinks, it don’t mean they’ve got to be a bad father, eh?” Carmel asked, stacking little dinosaurs on top of their tower. “I mean, your mate Nancy, she’s got a real problem, hasn’t she, but she’s still a good mum and she takes care of them kids.”

“Carmel, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but it’s not… that’s hardly the only issue, isn’t it?” John Paul replied as he made one of the dinosaurs walk up Matthew’s leg. The child giggled, oblivious to the conversation happening right over his head.

“You mean because of the cheating? You of all people should be used to all that, after, y’know, being Craig’s bit on the side all that time while Sarah—”

“Carmel!” John Paul scolded, startling Matthew. “Sorry about that, me and Carmel, we’re just having a grown-up conversation, it’s nothing to worry about.” He addressed his sister again, and said, “We shouldn’t talk about this in front of a kid.”

“Oh, right!” Carmel said. She patted John Paul’s shoulder. “Okay, love, we’ll talk later while little Matthew’s in school.”

He was careful never to bring up Craig, but it was hard to forget when all roads seemed to lead back to him. Times like this he missed him the most. Craig had his issues, sure, but at least he wouldn’t have exposed Matthew to all this substance abuse. He thought long and hard before he made his decision. Enough was enough, and he and Ste got divorced.

Even his relationship with Carmel took a dark turn. The rift began when he helped Myra fake her death. Carmel was devastated, and when she found out that Myra was alive, she was furious at both of them that they had let her grieve for so long without telling her. Then she went and had an affair with Sonny Valentine, of all people, and disappeared. She returned mysteriously and tried to kidnap their niece Kathleen-Angel, and that was the last straw for John Paul. In the end, Carmel sacrificed herself to save their cousin Theresa from Sonny’s machinations and died with Myra by her side.

John Paul did not get there in time to say goodbye to her. The pain of losing her without even the chance to say he was sorry mirrored the way he felt when Craig kicked him out, but so much worse. The unresolved issues with his first love continued to haunt him, but at least Craig was still alive. At least there was some chance he might someday get some closure. Not so with Carmel. His sister, the kindest and sweetest friend he’d ever had, the first one to accept him when he came out of the closet, was gone forever and he would never have the chance to talk to her again. Would he ever be able to sleep again without seeing her kind face broken with betrayal?

His divorce from Ste wasn’t a clean break either. He and John Paul were involved in several love triangles over the years. John Paul got engaged to another man, James, but still had lingering feelings for Ste, and James kidnapped him out of jealousy. James told John Paul that Ste was in the boot of his car and drove it over a cliff. But Ste wasn’t really there; he was safe at home, proposing to Harry. That day, John Paul realized he had no chance at real love, not with Ste or with James.

His heart would always come back to Craig. His first, greatest love. His soulmate.

So much had happened in Hollyoaks. He desperately needed to get away from it all, especially from Ste and James. He accepted a teaching position overseas in Singapore. Matthew was only five, so he wouldn’t remember much about the move when he got older. Once more into the fold, on the other side of the world from everything and everyone he knew.

He told himself he wouldn’t call. He told himself he wouldn’t reopen that wound. He told himself Craig must have moved on by now. He never properly said goodbye, and that was all he really wanted. A proper goodbye. He could never say goodbye to Carmel, it was too much to be saddled as well without a resolution to the love that had defined him. But Craig wouldn’t want to talk to him, so there was no point.

The phone was ringing. For all he tried to talk himself out of it, he apparently lacked the willpower to stop. He couldn’t hang up now. It would only make this look even more awkward. Hopefully he was too busy to pick up. Hopefully he would just ignore the call. Then he would know, once and for all, that it was all over.

“Hello?”

“Craig?!?!? Wha—I mean, um, hey, how’ve you been?”

Craig laughed softly. “Don’t sound so surprised. You’re the one who called me.”

“Right… I… of course, I did. I didn’t expect you to pick up though! I’m… it’s good to hear your voice.”

“You too. It’s good to hear from you, I mean.”

“Yeah, it is. Yeah.” John Paul let an awkwardly long silence go by. “Oh, so how have you been?”

“You already asked me that.”

“Did I? I guess I did. You didn’t answer me though.”

“I’m good,” Craig said. He took a long pause, then continued carefully, “I’m happy. Really happy.”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s good. That’s… it’s amazing.”

“It is amazing. Everything is, I’ve been so lucky.”

“Oh! So I take it that woman, your colleague that you liked, you two managed to start that company you two were talking about?”

“We did,” Craig said calmly. He gave John Paul a brief overview of Collins-Dean Enterprises and Hollaback Gym.

“Wow… your very own gay gym. If you’d told me a few years ago that’s what you would end up doing in the future… I would’ve told you to get your head checked.”

“I would’ve thought the same. Back then.” Craig allowed another long silence to pass. “I’ve changed a lot since you knew me.”

“Past tense, eh? I’m going to be honest, that stings a little.”

“Mmh.” There was another long silence as Craig considered what to say next. “I’ve heard a few things, from my mum. I take what she says with a grain of salt, mind you, of course… she told me you… well, look, a large portion of our clients are gays and whatnot that’ve got attacked by homophobes. Sexual violence and all. Well, regular violence too. We’ve got a lot of self-defense classes, not just for gays obviously, we’re quite popular with straight women too, and transgender folks, the lot of everyone. One of our instructors runs a support group for survivors of sexual assault, she’s… she’s an amazing person, so many people look up to her, she’s helped so many people to cope, to own their struggles, take back their lives. I’m… what I’m trying to get at here is, you, I heard from, you know, I’ve heard some rumors, knowing who they’re coming from I don’t… I don’t assume they’re reliable, you know, but… well, there’s a rumor you were harassed and assaulted. And… and I… if it’s true… I hope you’re okay.”

John Paul choked through his tears, “I am. I was. I’m okay now, I am.”

“You’re crying.”

“Thank you, captain obvious,” John Paul groaned.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve been spending a lot of time around assault survivors, and I know… it’s not something that’s easy to cope with, it can take a long time before you feel normal again.”

“Craig, I’m fine, it was years ago, my life’s gone back to normal a long time ago.” He blew his nose, then sighed deeply and softened his tone. “But I’m glad to hear you still care.”

“I do. I hope you’ve found happiness. Despite what you’ve been through, I hope you’ve been able to overcome the hardships. After all these years, I’m hardly going to still wish you any ill will.”

“I know the way I left things wasn’t right. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again.”

“It wasn’t all your fault. I’m the one who decided to end it, remember?”

John Paul considered for a while. Very cautiously, he asked, “Do you regret it? Breaking it off with me, I mean?”

“No. Never.”

“Oh,” John Paul said, and the tears returned. “You don’t even regret… that you’ve not been part of Matthew’s life?”

“I don’t, not at all. John, you might not understand this, but I did it _for_ Matthew. My mum and dad hated each other, and us kids were always caught in the middle of it. I couldn’t do that to him. If there hadn’t been a baby involved, I probably would have never left you.”

“You still loved me?”

“I did.”

“Past tense again?”

Craig didn’t dignify that with an answer. “I don’t regret it. Breaking up. I’ve been so much happier since we’ve been apart. I’m sure you’ve been better off without me.”

“I haven’t,” John Paul said quietly. “I regret it. I regret everything.” He started sobbing. “Craig, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, for everything, I wish I could take it all back. What you did, it wasn’t even so bad, I should have forgiven you, I should have trusted you! I understand if you can’t forgive me, I don’t deserve it. When I was with Ste, I forgave so much, even when I shouldn’t have, that man is a mess, you’re a saint by comparison, hell and Ste was a saint compared to James, don’t even get me started… I kept making excuses for them, because… because that was how I lost you. I’ve never been able to forgive myself! I’ve never been able to forget you! I still love you, Craig! Come back to me, I love you!”

Craig was silent for a long time. John Paul broke down completely, so desperate for any confirmation. Any sign, anything, to hear that Craig still loved him. Craig finally answered, voice small and shaky. “It was good to hear from you. Goodbye, John Paul,” he said, and promptly hung up.

He didn’t call Craig again. It wasn’t right to dump all that on him. It wasn’t intentional, he just couldn’t help himself when Craig was so sweet and concerned about his well-being. He probably wasn’t even single. That was exactly why he didn’t want to call in the first place. He knew he would only make things worse. At least now he knew. Craig didn’t regret leaving him. He didn’t want to see him again. He wasn’t in love anymore. John Paul was really alone this time.

He prepared for the move to Singapore. He talked to Matthew about it and got him ready for it. The boy didn’t completely understand, but he knew he had to say goodbye to his grandparents and his aunties. John Paul felt bad for taking him away from his family, but with everything going on with the local drug epidemic he felt that it was healthy to experience a bit of life outside Hollyoaks.

Before he left, he visited Carmel’s grave. She had always been so good to him, and he loved her so much. He remembered when he first told his family he was gay, the way she had awkwardly tried to make him feel accepted by signing him up for a dating website and dragging him to a nightclub. She studied so hard for her PFLAG meetings after he told her how much she was humiliating him. When he and Craig first started officially dating, she was the first one to accept their scandalous relationship. When he came home from Dublin, she was always there for him when he was missing Craig and struggling as a single father. She was there for him through all the drama with Finn and Ste.

He couldn’t believe that sacred sibling bond had gone so wrong. He wasn’t sure he’d ever really be alright about the way things ended with her. To lose the trust of someone he cared about so much was just too much. No wonder Craig wanted nothing to do with him; all he ever did was push away the people he loved. He should have given Carmel the benefit of the doubt, he should have trusted her. She was his sister, after all.

John Paul and Matthew packed their stuff in the taxi and said their goodbyes, the usual McQueen flair dampened by their losses but still very much alive. They were taking off in the evening, so John Paul hoped Matthew would sleep for most of the long flight. They boarded the plane, and John Paul stared out at the setting sun.

Then his phone rang. He looked at the caller I.D. and smiled. “Craig?” he answered, “what a nice surprise! I didn’t expect I’d hear from you again.”

“Yeah…” Craig mumbled. “Where are you? It sounds loud.”

“I’m on an airplane.”

“What? I thought they didn’t allow mobile phones.”

“We haven’t left the platform yet. They’ll ask us to turn them off soon.”

“Okay.” Craig paused. “Well, I suppose I’ll catch you later, then.”

Craig sounded so apprehensive. Maybe he did still have a chance after all. “Did I tell you I’m moving to Singapore?”

“I, um… I suppose you… yeah, you mentioned it. Or maybe my mum told me, I don’t remember.”

 _Come on, last chance. Go big or go home,_ John Paul told himself. “Well, I’m on a plane to Singapore. And I’m single. And I still love you. Come meet me there. I’ll be waiting.”

“I’m… well you shouldn’t wait, there’s no guarantee—”

“I’ll always be waiting for you, Craig. No matter where I go, no matter who else I fall in love with, I’ll always be waiting for the day when you and I can be together again. You don’t have to come. But every day, for the rest of my life, my heart will be waiting for you, only you. Even if I wind up married to someone else, I’ll drop them the second I see your face. You know I will, I’ve done it before. No matter what happens, whenever you want it, I’m yours.”

“I do still love you,” Craig admitted softly.

“You don’t have to do anything now. You can keep me waiting for decades, keep me waiting until my deathbed, it won’t make a difference. I’ll still love you.”

“Okay,” Craig said. “They’ll want you to turn your mobile off soon.”

“They will, soon.” John Paul waited, but Craig didn’t hang up. “We can stay on the line until they tell me to turn it off.”

“Okay,” Craig said. They sat in silence, just knowing the other was still there.

John Paul didn’t want to wait for him. He wanted him _now_. Just two short conversations on the phone and he was entranced all over again. He said he was willing to wait, but it was a bald-faced lie. He would wait forever if he had to, but not willingly. But if he begged him to come back again, Craig would just hang up. Craig had to be the one to break the silence.

Finally, he did. “Call me when you’ve settled down in Singapore. When you have a chance.”

“I will,” he said. He waited in charged silence for a few more minutes. The plane started taxiing, and the flight attendants asked for all electronic devices to be turned off. “It’s time. I have to go now.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Goodbye, Craig.”

“Goodbye, John Paul.”

Craig wanted to talk again soon. This was it, a second chance. Well, third chance technically. John Paul’s whole face was on fire with anticipation, and he didn’t know how he was going to get through this plane ride. Every single nerve in his body was crackling. He had a chance to take back everything he had lost. He sat on his hands as the plane took off. The vibrations of the takeoff were almost too much to bear, with his heightened sensations. He hadn’t felt like this in years.

The horrendous rumbling woke up Matthew. Thank goodness for the distraction. The way things were going, John Paul was worried that he would end up humiliating himself before the seat belt sign turned off and he could excuse himself to the facilities. Matthew cried because of the pain in his ears, and John Paul had to turn his attention toward soothing the boy. He wasn’t able to fall asleep again, so John Paul set up a movie for him to watch and pulled out some playdough.

The cabin stabilized, and he was allowed to get up again. He told his son he was going potty, and fortunately the child was far too engrossed in making orange playdough by smushing the red and yellow together to balk at being left alone for a bit. They were seated to a nice elderly lady who volunteered to look after Matthew, thank goodness.

This was hardly an ideal situation. The tiny airplane latrine was cold and reeked of chemicals, but John Paul had to take the edge off somehow. The sound of Craig’s soft voice, admitting he was still in love, had him feeling _alive_ again. He played it over and over in his head and tried to imagine what his face must have looked like as he said it. Those wide brown eyes and long lashes, would they be fluttering nervously around the room, or steady and locked in resolve? Where was he sitting right now? He must have been alone if he decided to call, so he was most likely at home. Had he changed into sweatpants, or was he still wearing his work clothes? Was he sitting at the dining room table with his laptop and a cup of tea, or was he curled up on the couch? Did his pretty lips tremble as he said the words?

John Paul envisioned him sitting at the dining room table at his laptop, still finishing something from work. Getting distracted and trying to resist the urge to call him back. He imagined him fidgeting as they spoke, cup of tea growing cold, forgotten, beside him on the table. Then, he imagined himself there in the flat with him. In his mind, he cupped Craig’s face, big eyes locked with his in trepidation, and he leaned in and kissed him. He could still remember the feel of his soft lips, the desperation for closeness his tongue always pried for within his mouth. He wrapped his arms around his skinny torso, he pulled his hips into his own and ground against them. He kissed his neck as he unbuttoned his shirt and reached inside, hands squeezing the soft skin of his slim waist. He brought his lips to Craig’s stomach and kissed and nipped at it with his teeth and heard his lover’s gentle moans of pleasure.

That took him over the edge. A memory of Craig’s voice from six years ago as he enjoyed a bit of foreplay had brought him as much satisfaction on an in-flight lavatory visit as spending a whole night with someone else. He was hopelessly, irreversibly, forever in love.

Exiting the latrine, he had to edge past a prim-looking woman who was waiting to use it. He didn’t think he made much noise, and goodness knows he wasn’t in there very long, but he couldn’t help but feel her judgment nonetheless.

Back in Dublin, Craig’s body was having a similar reaction to John Paul’s anguished declaration of undying love. His logic circuits were telling him such over-the-top dedications were a glaring red flag. He had changed so much since the days when John Paul knew him, his generic words of passion might as well have been coming from a complete stranger. Yet he couldn’t help the way his body and soul were roped in by the sound of his deep, husky voice. He couldn’t help hearing it repeating, over and over, _Even if I never see you again, even on my deathbed, I’ll still love you the same._ Even knowing that it was a memory of a sad boy long gone who John Paul really loved, Craig couldn’t help the way his heart fell once again under the same old enchantment.

He was such a sucker for those cheesy romantic lines. Coming from John Paul, at least. He kept seeing those intense icy blue eyes piercing into his own, telling him, _I could spend my whole life happily married to someone else, and it would never stop how much I want you._ He bit his lip and reached a hand underneath his shirt, pinching himself in all the sensitive places where John Paul used to bite. _No matter what, I’ll never love anyone half as much as I love you._ He moved to his bed and took his pants off, so he could stroke at his inner thighs, pretending that his hands were John Paul’s tongue. _Wherever I am, whoever I’m with, the second you call, I’ll come running._ He grabbed a bottle from a bedside drawer, reached around and squeezed his ass cheeks, then walked his fingers toward the center. _I love you, Craig. I’ll love you forever._

It had been a long time since he touched himself this way. He’d been single for a few months now, and since then he usually just banged one out quickly, then went to sleep. He had better things to do with his time, after all. But that speech over the phone had awakened a sleeping dragon, and once was not nearly enough. He made a complete mess of his bedsheets.

He woke up mortified to find that he had slept in such filth. The goal of giving in to his carnal desire was to draw the venomous passion from his veins. It didn’t work at all. Having spent a night in the throes of lust with a memory, he now yearned even more strongly for the real thing. He sighed, exasperated with himself. He was hopeless.

John Paul checked his phone the moment the plane touched down in Singapore. Now that the door was reopened, he was determined to enter, burning with ravenous desire for what lay on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: My Dreams Came True- now in Singapore!


End file.
